


From this day on

by Serpentina1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Pregnancy, Romance, Slow Build, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpentina1/pseuds/Serpentina1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape has to fulfil a task in the future. Hermione accompanies him as an assistant and - most of all - because she is familiar with the correct use of a Time-Turner. They are to face a surprise in that different time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An unusual task

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations written by J.K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made. The plot of this fiction is all mine, though.

**From this day on**

Chapter 1                -An unusual task-

“You want to send me… What?!” Severus Snape stared at the white-haired wizard in front of him in disbelief. “But – Albus - you can not possibly be serious about – this?”

“And why not, my dear Severus?” the old man smiled. “Be aware that despite my ancient appearance, I’m still in full possession of my mental health.”

Severus did not react to the mocking note in the other man’s voice though. “But Albus, if I got you right, you-”  he shook his head slightly as if to clear his confused thoughts, “you want me to brew a potion in – in the future?” he added carefully.

“Yes, Severus.” All mocking was gone from Dumbledore’s voice now. With an almost piercing stare, he fixed the younger man’s gaze.

“You of all people should know, the Curse-breaking Potion we’re speaking of is one of the most complex and difficult mixtures imaginable. If we read that ancient rune-scripting correctly, and I can only hope we did, it will bring us the one cure against evil that has been desired over the centuries but never been found. It will bring us freedom, Severus. And peace.” 

“But Albus,” the younger wizard started hesitantly, “what you ask of me is just – unimaginable!”

“The wizarding world needs your help, Severus,” Dumbledore continued urgently. “Won’t you give it to them – to us?”

“Well, Albus,” the other man croaked uncomfortably, “what can I say to this? You have done me so much good. How can I refuse to do anything you ask of me?”  

“You needn’t do it for me, Severus!”

The old man’s eyes fixed his with an intense stare. “But just imagine how many innocent lives could be saved! I can’t think of anyone else who is that skilled at potions brewing and whom I’d trust as much as you!”

“But what you ask of me is – Well, I would need at least one additional pair of hands and eyes,” Severus sighed. “I can not do this alone! It is completely out of the question. It is just not possible!”

At that the familiar twinkle returned to Dumbledore’s eyes. “Ahh-” he smiled, “I’ve thought about this, Severus. You needn’t do it alone. You’ll get an assistant.”

Severus’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Indeed, Albus? But who would…”

Just that instant, the heavy wooden door to the Headmaster’s office creaked open and Minerva McGonagall entered the room. She was accompanied by the Gryffindor Head Girl – Hermione Granger.

“Her? Albus?!” Severus gasped in disbelief.

“What about me?” Hermione asked nervously. Her eyes settled on the elder witch. “Professor?”

Professor McGonagall gave her a calming smile. “The Headmaster asked for you, my dear. He will explain things to you.”

“Did I do anything wrong?” Hermione asked tensely.

Snape glared at her. “Well, did you, Miss Granger? That is quite an interesting question, but not the point of discussion right now, I am afraid,” he remarked with his trademark sneer.

“Don’t annoy your assistant, Severus,” Dumbledore chuckled. “You might need her help.”

Snape did not respond to this, but Hermione noticed the sour expression on his face. “The Headmaster has a task for us, Miss Granger,” he told her stiffly.

“A task?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Dumbledore assured her, “I have. I would like to ask you to assist Professor Snape with brewing a very complicated and utmost important potion.”

“What potion?” Hermione asked, bewildered.

“One that is not known to any human being thus far, Miss Granger. One that might be able to bring us victory over the Dark Lord and his followers,” Snape told her sternly.

“Really?” she gasped excitedly, “but how - ”

“You know the Unforgivable Curses, Miss Granger?” Snape asked with an intense stare.

She nodded, trembling. “Y-yes-”

“Good,” Snape nodded approvingly. “As you most likely know, muggle technology does not work around Hogwarts, Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. The electromagnetic field is so strong around these places that muggle electricity is distracted by it. What magic requires is the ability to gather all this electrical or magnetic movement into one bundle of strength, and focus your willpower on the one thing which you want to happen. The wand and spell-words are only an addition to emphasise that strength. You can not just point your wand at something, mutter a few words without concentration, and expect magic to happen. It requires focus. Almost every spell works that way. Summarising and Levitation-spells work along the magnetic line, whereas most Duelling-spells are of electrical origin. Tarantellegra, for example, arouses muscular response to electrical impulse. As this impulse is given from outside - by the spell - it is no intentional movement of course, but the muscular response is the same nonetheless. It is the willpower of another wizard that causes the movement. Do you understand, Miss Granger?”

Hermione frowned slightly with concentration, but nodded. “Yes, I think I do, Professor.”  

“On a more serious level,” he continued, “the Imperius Curse works along these lines, as well. Muscular activity is caused by changes in the electrical potential of membranes. Avada Kedavra is no exception to this. It blasts a shock-wave of electrical impulse at the electro-sensitive part of the heart, disturbs its regular activity and causes the end of any useful muscular contractions. You will possibly know that heart activities are stimulated by electrical impulse, Miss Granger. Its activity can be observed by what muggle-medi-wizards call an electrocardiogram. The potions we are speaking of affect both of these. One increases the level at which electrical impulse - given from the outside - causes a muscular response, and is therefore useful to reduce electrical sensitivity to the Imperius Curse. The other one is able to block Avada Kedavra, which causes ineffective arrhythmic heart movement and - death. These two potions need to be pipetted carefully into one another, until both of them turn into crystal clear liquid. It is of utmost importance to add the exact amount of potion by drops. If there is only the slightest bit too little, the essence will not work. If it is too much, it becomes toxic. I can not do this on my own, Miss Granger.”

“If you are to succeed in your plan – and I hope you will – the potion could be the one and deciding defence in our battle against the Dark Lord,” Dumbledore interjected earnestly.

“There is just one casual matter that the Headmaster did not tell you so far, Miss Granger,” Snape continued with a sneer. “After the first working steps, this potion needs to rest for – about – five years, until it can be completed - and as it is needed right now - we are expected to travel those five years into the future to finish our task there and bring the potion back to our time. The potion can not  - must not - be moved through time, unless it is finished. It is too sensitive as long as it is not completed. We need to stay in the future as long as it takes us to fulfil this task. Probably a few days. At the very least.”

Hermione just stared at him.

“How is it, Miss Granger? Are you willing to take such a risk?” Dumbledore asked softly. “We wouldn’t think any less of you, if you refuse.”

Hermione tried to clear her thoughts. “I would be honoured,” she muttered hoarsely.

She noticed Snape looking at her with surprise, before he hid his emotions behind a sneer again.

OO

About a week later, they stood in Dumbledore’s office once again. The potion had been prepared and was stowed safely in a secret nook at the Potions Master’s quarters.

“Well then,” Dumbledore broke the silence, “we had better get this over with now. Please remember not to interfere with anything in the future. All you have to do is get that potion here. We don’t know for sure, if you will know about this task in the future. So it’s probably better not to cross your future self’s way, Severus. Bear that in mind, will you? Here’s your Time-Turner and the cloak.”  

“Our Time-Turner, Albus?” Snape frowned. “You'll surely have one for each of us, don’t you?”

“Oh-no, Severus. It’s absolutely necessary that you travel by the same Time-Turner. It’s too dangerous to send each of you by your own one. You might get out at different points of time. And Miss Granger can be of help to you, you know? She is familiar with the correct use of a Time-Turner. Without her help, it would be far too dangerous for you to travel that far in time.”

At that he looked at her, his eyes full of concern. “Take care of the both of you, will you?”

Hermione nodded, her throat too tight to speak. When she looked up, she caught a death glare from Snape and flinched back.

“And you need to share that Invisibility Cloak as well. I’m sorry,” Dumbledore continued, oblivious to their uneasiness. “You could hardly communicate if you’re invisible, could you? You can’t just talk to each other as it’s absolutely necessary for you not to be heard, either. Staying in contact would turn out similar to searching for the ‘Invisible Book Of Invisibility’. Nasty task, I can tell you. Just ask the shop assistant at ‘Flourish and Blotts’ about it …tsk tsk tsk.”

Hermione and Snape stared at each other in shock. They both felt quite uncomfortable with their task and the forced closeness that came along with it.

When Dumbledore handed the Time-Turner to her, Hermione took it with trembling fingers.

“It has been adjusted, so it transports you a year ahead each time you turn it over. It’s now a Year-Glass. Be careful you turn it the right way around. Clockwise, from your view, Miss Granger, remember that. Clockwise.”

Hermione nodded. “Well then,” she muttered nervously, “you need to bend down a little, so I can place that chain around your neck, Professor.”

With a tense movement, Snape followed her command. He bowed his head and she threw the thin golden chain around his neck, too. They were very close to each other now. A few strands of Snape’s hair brushed against her cheek and Hermione noticed that it did not feel greasy at all. He did smell nice, too. It was a mixture of various potions ingredients, she supposed, but luckily not the nasty ones. He smelled of pine-needles and resin, dry flux-weed – and something she could not quite put a finger on. It had to be his very own scent. It smelled of strength and willpower - if that could be expressed in a scent at all. It made her head spin. She had to turn her face away. This was a highly important task she had to fulfil. She could not risk to be distracted by – anything. 

“Take – take a grip on my shoulders,” she told him tensely.

He did.

His warm, slender hands covered her upper arms in a reluctant movement.

“Keep hold of me - we are  - going to be whirled around on our journey.”     

He took a firmer grip around her arms. They were standing awfully close to each other. Their bodies almost touched. But just almost. She could feel his body-heat at the short distance. It made her feel all funny inside.

With a quick movement, Dumbledore threw the Invisibility Cloak over their heads. “Good luck, you two. May the risks you take on yourself lead to something good.”

The cloak’s floating, silky material kept all noise and visions from outside away from them in a blurry haze of mist and silence. Hermione could almost hear Snape’s heartbeat in the quiet place.

“Are you ready?” she whispered nervously.

His dark, intense eyes locked with hers.  “Yes.”

Hermione turned the hourglass over five times. Clockwise. In a blur of colours and shapes they rushed forward. They spun around in quick, endless circles. Light switched with darkness and warmth became cold - then warmth again. It must be the seasons’ passing and the permanent changing of night and day. It was terrifying.

At some point in their long, frightening way through time, Snape’s arms came around her in a tight embrace. He held her close to his chest. Without hesitation, Hermione threw her arms around him as well and pressed her face into his shoulder. She felt a lot better that way.

All of a sudden the whirling movement stopped. With a hard bounce they hit the floor and in a quick movement they let go of each other. There was an awkward silence between them. Hermione glanced around. The light was dim, but it was not dark. It was definitely daytime. They seemed to have got out somewhere at the third corridor. When they started to carefully walk down towards the dungeons, they heard an odd noise that sounded surprisingly like crying. Snape wanted to move into the other direction, but Hermione could not resist to check on the source of that noise. When they rounded the corner, a little girl of about four years, with straight black hair, cowered at the lowest step of a narrow staircase. She was crying. The little girl’s crying rang some bell inside Hermione and she slipped off from under the cloak to check on her.

“Miss Granger, stop this! We mustn’t interfere with anything!” Snape hissed through gritted teeth. “We mustn’t be seen!” His beetle-black eyes glared dangerously at her. Firmly he grabbed her arm, determined to stop her, but she wrestled away from him.

“I’ll be right back, Professor.” 

Severus, who stayed hidden beneath the cloak, watching her and that black-haired child, started to feel all funny himself. To his utmost shock, the little girl stopped crying immediately, as soon as her dark eyes fell on Hermione Granger.

“Mummy –“ she yelled happily.

 **A/N:** Please let me know what you think of this.

Thanks to **SilentG** for revising this chapter.

Smiles, Serpentina


	2. Wriggling brown spiders

**From this day on**

Chapter 2   -Wriggling brown spiders-

“Oh Mummy, just think - I got lost and-” she stifled a sob. Her small body was still trembling slightly. Severus watched an awkward Hermione picking the little girl up. Obviously, she was just as surprised by that revelation as he was.

“Hush – don’t cry,” she whispered in a soothing sort of voice he had never heard from her before. “Why are you all alone, anyway?”

“I .. I wanted … to …go down to the dungeons …”

“Really?” Hermione croaked out, even more surprised.

"Yes, Mummy,” the little girl nodded eagerly. “I .. I wanted to,” another half stifled sob, “- to see Daddy.”

“Ohh-erw, you …you… What?!” Hermione gasped and Severus had to suppress a cough himself.

“Yes, I know, he’s teaching down there right now, but then Peeves appeared ...” the little girl continued, completely unaware of the shock she had caused them by that simple remark, “and …I got all scared and … just ran off … but I ..”

“Oh - that wasn’t nice of Peeves, was it?” Severus heard Hermione whispering, confusion written all over her face. He watched her rocking the little girl comfortingly. From the blank look in her eyes he could tell, she was completely taken aback at this news as well. The little girl shook her head eagerly.

“No, not at all. Mummy?” she asked, snuggling closer to Hermione’s chest.

“Yes, D- Dearie?” Severus heard his student stuttering.

“Can we go down to Daddy’s lab now?”

“Erww-” Severus was still busy, sorting that information out, when suddenly his own future self appeared at the scene.

“Hermione –“ the future Snape asked worriedly and rushed towards them. “I heard Serpentina crying-” he trailed off, when he saw the little girl beaming at him with bright, beetle-black eyes.

“Daddy,” she laughed.

“Hello princess.” He smiled gently, then added with a mock frown: “Shouldn’t you be at Hagrid’s right now?”

“Yes.” The little girl nodded proudly. “I’ve been there – but I tricked him.”

“Well, obviously,” he muttered, trying his best to hide a smile. He locked his eyes with the ones of an utterly shocked Hermione, who just stared at him. The bewildered expression on her face seemed to bother him, though. “Is everything all right, Sweetheart? You’re looking all pale and scared,” he asked softly, putting a comforting arm around her. “It’s the baby, isn’t it?” he whispered, while kissing her temple softly. “Are you sick again? You’re terribly pale, you know?”

“Oh .. oh – no! No – I’m … q-quite fine Pro – er - probably - er yes, it’s because I’m a little er – tired – probably, er - yes that’s it …” Hermione stuttered.

“Oh yes - I see …” a second tender brushing of his lips against her temple. “Darling ...” Another kiss. “Of course you are.” With a tender look at the wriggling girl in her arms he told her: “Just pass her to me – Sweetheart, she’s far too heavy for you now – you shouldn’t carry her around.” “Come here, princess, Mummy needs a little rest now.” He lifted the child out of Hermione’s arms.

“Why?”

“Because of the little sibling …” he gave Hermione a tender smile.

“Where is – the ‘siblthing’?”

“In here.” He softly placed one hand at Hermione’s stomach.

The little girl leaned forward. “I can’t see it -”

“That’s right, Tina. It’s still far too small to be seen. It needs to grow inside of Mummy’s belly first. She needs to help him grow, you know? That’s why Mummy is sometimes tired lately. It’s nothing to worry about,” he added gently, stroking his little daughter’s hair back in a tender gesture.

“It’s inside there? Really?” she asked suspiciously. “Hagrid says, it would arrive by stork – like the post does by owl,” she declared stubbornly.

This idea caused the future Severus to chuckle slightly, while his younger self bit his tongue to suppress that sound. Hermione just blushed.

“No, that’s not quite correct, Sweetheart,” she heard the future Snape explain, while glancing lovingly at her.

“But Hagrid said -”

“Hagrid has been fibbing. Just wait until it’s big enough to make Mummy’s belly go all round and starts wriggling, Sweetheart. Then you’ll see it’s in there. Like you were.”

“Me

“Yes, Tina. You’ve been in Mummy’s belly as well.”

“Did I grow inside there, too?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes, Sweet, you did.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why had I been inside of Mummy’s belly?”

“Because - Mummy and Daddy each other very, very much – and wished for you – and as they are so much in love with each other, they got their wish fulfilled, princess,” he declared softly.

“Oh- and why is that little ‘siblthing’ inside of Mummy now?”

“For the same reason, Sweetheart.”

“Did you wish for the ‘siblthing’, too.”

“Yes.”

“Oh – and it came in there - because you love Mummy – and she you?”

“Yes, Darling, that’s right.” He kissed her cheek.

“Daddy --- will you love that little ‘siblthing’ more than me?”

“No, Tina. Mummy and Daddy will love you just as much as they do now. But they love the little one, too.”

“Even now?”

“Yes – “ he returned his hand to Hermione’s belly. “It’s right here, you see? It can hear us talking – maybe not yet, but very soon - and it can feel, when we’re stroking Mummy’s stomach. Like this.” He softly rubbed his palm across Hermione’s stomach and down to her belly in one fluid, gentle caress that send shivers up and down her spine. “It’s happy then,” he muttered tenderly. Hermione felt her throat get tight, while a shock-wave of heat ripped through her. Gasping with surprise at the strange sensations of warmth and bliss that welled up inside her at the softness of his touch - his tenderness - she leaned into him – closing her eyes - her head spinning with confusion. “Mummy is happy then, too,” she heard him whispering. Another little kiss was placed at her temple. She felt his warm breath tickling her skin as he whispered into her ear. “Aren’t you, Love?” She could feel he was smiling.

“Mmmh-yes-” she breathed softly.

“I love you.” Another kiss and a tender caress of her belly that caused her to snuggle her face into the curve of his neck.

“M-m-hm-m --” she whimpered.

The little girl smiled. “Ohh- Can I talk to it, too, Daddy?”

“Yes. Do you want to try?”

Her eyes went all round with awe at that. “Yes -”

“Just go ahead, Sweetheart, you can’t do anything wrong. You just have to be careful, will you?” She nodded earnestly. With that, the future Snape took the little girl’s hand in his, placed both of their hands tenderly at Hermione’s stomach and started to stroke it softly. “Like this, Tina.” Hermione swallowed hard at that. The little girl laughed.

“Ohh- Hi, ..” she started shyly, then leaned towards her Daddy and whispered into his ear. “What’s his name?”

“We don’t know yet, princess. It depends on whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Don’t you know that, Daddy?”

“No, we don’t know yet. What would you like better, Tina - a little brother, or a little sis?”

She narrowed her eyes in concentration and tilted her head aside, “I don’t know …” then beamed: “A dog!”

“Oh, my -- Well, maybe, we can see to that, too.” The future Snape beamed at Hermione. He started to gently stroke and massage her back in tiny circles.

“Does the ‘siblthing’ hear every word I say, Daddy?” the little girl interjected thoughtfully.

“Well, maybe not every word, but the most of it, yes,” the future Snape nodded.

“Did it hear, I’d like to have a dog better than a ‘siblthing’? Is it mad with me now? ” she asked worriedly.

“No, Sweetheart, it’s not mad at you. It’s far too little, to understand what you’re telling him, but it’ll know its big sister’s voice, when it’s born. And perhaps it would like to have a dog, too. What do you think?”

She smiled at that. “Mmmm - ”

“Just tell him about the dog and how the three of you can play with each other, when it’s old enough. Just think, how much fun that will be.”

She smiled again. “Did you talk to me, too, when I was in Mummy’s belly?”

“Yes, we talked to you a lot, when you were growing in there.”

“Really?” She beamed.

“Of course, Treasure. I’ve kissed you goodnight, ever since we knew you were in there.”

“How did you do that?”

“I’ve kissed Mummy’s belly, and at nights - I tucked her in and put my arms around the both of you to make you feel all safe and sheltered.”

“Ohhh-” Hermione swallowed again.

“And when you were big enough, we could feel you wriggling happily, whenever I kissed Mummy. We cuddled in font of the fireplace and placed our hands at her rounded belly to feel you in there. You were wriggling a whole lot, princess. I guess you were training for Quidditch inside there.

She giggled.

“But when Mummy sung you a lullaby, or if we told you a fairy-tale, you calmed down, Sweetheart.”

The little girl smiled at that. “When does the little ‘siblthing’ get out?”

“Not yet. It needs to grow first.”

“And when will it start wriggling, Daddy?”

“When it’s ready for it, Sweet – but that’ll take some time, too. It’s far to early still.”

“How long is it inside there, anyway?”

“Oh – just a few weeks.”

“Oh …”

“How is it? Does my big girl want to help me teach my Potions class again?”

“Oh – yes, Daddy!” She clapped her hands with joy. “That’s what I’ve tricked Hagrid for in the first place!”

“I supposed so,” the future Snape chuckled. All the time he had continued to gently caress Hermione’s back. Now he gazed into her eyes - lovingly. “Is that all right with you, Dearest?”

Hermione’s throat was tight with tenderness all of a sudden, she didn’t trust herself to speak. “Yes ...” she croaked out, leaning into his chest to hide her confusion. The future Snape, who obviously supposed her to do so because of dizziness, put Serpentina down to her feet at that.

“Is it all that bad again, Darling?” he asked, reaching up to softly stroke Hermione’s cheek.

“N-no, no - it’s just .. just …” She swallowed hard and blinked furiously, but it was no use at all. She burst into tears nonetheless. “Oh-I-don’t-know-…it’s just, … just

“Oh, Darling,” the future Snape muttered softly, “Hermione – Darling - don’t you cry - Love – please don’t you cry.” He closed both of his arms safely around her. “I love you, Hermione – I love you so much …” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I love you.” He started to kiss the tears away from her face.

“I –I –I, oh S-se-sev-erus -” she muttered helplessly and before she could sort out a single thought at all, he had clasped her trembling lips with his and kissed her. Hermione tensed, but after the first shock, she melted into the kiss. His lips were soft and firm at the same time, giving all purchase and comfort to her she needed. It was a soft, consoling kiss, full of love and tenderness. It took away the tightness in her throat and all the tension that had build up inside of her. It felt so right to kiss him like that. It was just what she needed. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, it left her aching all over with desperate longing for him. But he had already turned towards the little girl again.

“Don’t you worry, Sweetheart. Mummy’s fine,” she heard him speak to the little girl, who watched them worriedly.

“Really?” the child asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Dearie. Just look, how she’s smiling again,” the future Snape assured her. Only the determination to spare her - soon to be - little girl the worry, stopped Hermione from bursting into tears again.

“Yes,” she croaked out, “yes, Tina – D-Daddy’s right, I … I’m fine.”

The future Snape gave her a tender smile at this. “All right then, Tina.” He took the little girl’s hand, sneaked the other arm around Hermione and started to lead them both away. “We’ll first put Mummy into bed and tuck her in.”

“So she can rest and help the little-one grow?” the little girl concluded.

“Quite right, Treasure,” the future Snape smiled at her. “And afterwards, we’ll go and show the second year Hufflepuffs, how to brew Cheering- Potion!”

“May I cut the honey-blossom-roots, Daddy?”

“No, Sweet. Daddy will do that himself – but you can hand out the spiders again.”

“The large brown ones?” she asked eagerly.

“The very same, Tina.” He smiled. “Will you?”

“Huuii-yes, Daddy,” she giggled excitedly. “they tickle so funni-ly, when they wriggle in my hands!”

His lips curled into a slight sneer at that. “Ahh-yes, that’s quite appealing.”

“Ewwwr— honestly-” Hermione just shuddered.

The future Snape gave her a mock grin, then leaned down and whispered to his daughter: ”I guess, we’d better stop talking about that now, princess.”

“Doesn’t Mummy like spiders?”

“Not too much, no.” He grinned. “Do you, Dearest?”

“Huuaah – no! Definitely not!” Hermione shuddered.

“Look out, Mummy – it’s a fat brown spider at your robes.” Tina giggled and started to move her fingers like wriggling spiders’ legs up and down the cloth. “Uuua, it’s one with those thick hairy legs …” Hermione just shuddered with a low moan of surprise that the future Snape mistook for sickness.

“That’ll be enough, Tina,” he recommended quite sternly. “Mummy’s already sick – we don’t want to make her feel worse, do we?” He stopped walking and pulled Hermione close to his chest. “It’s all right, Love.”

“Will she throw up again now - like she does in the morning, Daddy?” Tina asked suspiciously.

“Maybe, Tina.”

“Will you have to, Darling?” he asked, all concerned.

“N-no, Sev-e-rus, I …I won’t. Don’t worry,” Hermione croaked out with embarrassment, pinching her eyes shut. A gentle hand caressed her hair.

“Just lean into me, Dearest. I’ll hold you, don’t you worry,” the future Snape whispered. “Just close your eyes, I’m here. Just breathe calmly. In-and out - in-and out. Yes, that’s fine. It’ll make the sickness go away, you’ll see. It’ll be all better soon.” Hermione was completely shaken to find any version of Snape treating her with such tenderness. When she finally steadied herself, she expected him to let go of her, but he just pulled her a little closer, kissing her temple. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have brought those spiders up – I didn’t mean to make things worse for you, my Darling.” Another gentle kiss. “I love you.”

“Oh Severus … I …”

The little girl giggled again. “Ohh- I guess, Mummy must have been quite an awful case at Potions then.”

“No, Tina. Mummy has always been brilliant at Potions. She never spoiled a single one.”

Bemused at that praise, Hermione raised her eyebrows, but Severus already continued with a tender smile in her direction: “And not just at Potions. She has been top of her year in every class. She’s the most gifted witch I’ve ever seen.” His voice was full of love and adoration.

“But if she threw up, because of a few spiders ..” Tina started to complain, but the future Snape just laughed silently at that.

“She didn’t do so then, princess. Just now, as she’s pregnant. We need to be very careful around her these days.”

The little girl nodded in earnest. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, Mummy.”

“You needn’t be,” Hermione told her affectionately. “Mummy is all right, really.”

She caught another look of love and adoration from the future Snape and smiled back at him.

“Mummy didn’t get sick – because you talked about spiders,” she cast another smile at his direction, “although Daddy is right – she has never been too fond of them either. So you have probably inherited that likeness from him.”

“Most likely, yes,” he sneered mockingly. “And you know what, Tina? Daddy has teased Mummy about spiders, too.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him in surprise and he gave her a sweet, innocent smile. “She isn’t afraid of them and has prepared them along with other potion ingredients without hesitation, but-” his lips curled into a mock smile, “I dare say, she never enjoyed handing them out as much as you do, Tina.” Hermione frowned at him. “Oh, don’t be mad at me, Love. It was so much fun to watch, how you levitated them out of the glass, whenever you thought I wasn’t looking,” he sniggered.

Hermione couldn’t hide her amusement at that. “W-well, you can’t say it hadn’t been a good idea, could you?” She smiled sweetly.

“It was priceless, Sweetheart.” He softly kissed her temple again. “I’ve always wondered, how you managed to hide that wand of yours in your sleeve and perform the Levitation Charm correctly, nonetheless. Filius Flitwick would have been impressed.” The future Snape looked at her, his dark eyes glittering, and Hermione started to feel all wriggly all of a sudden. “And that encounter, when you dropped that spider on top of the Weasley-boy, when I turned around, before you could grab it out of mid-air-” he continued, still fixing her gaze. “I’ve found it extremely hard, not to laugh out aloud at that.”

“Oh,” Hermione gasped, snapping out of her dreamy state of confusion. “So you’ve done that on purpose, haven’t you?”

He chuckled once more. “Of course I have, Darling.”

“Were you and Mummy fond of each other even back then?” Serpentina asked excitedly. At that, the ‘invisible’, Severus held his breath.

“Well,” he heard his future self explaining carefully, “well, I dare say – yes – probably we were - even back then, Sweet. Although neither Mummy nor I would have admitted it - at that time.” He smiled gently at his ‘supposed’ wife. “What do you guess, Love? Were we?”

**A/N:** Thank you for the nice feedback. It was quite encouraging. I’m glad, you liked the story so far.

Smiles, Serpentina


	3. Just a matter of time

**From this day on**

Chapter 3             -Just a matter of time-

“I -em  - I – don’t know, Severus,” Hermione stuttered, awkwardly aware of the present Snape listening to their every word.

But at the hurt expression in the future Snape’s eyes, she quickly added, “– yes - perhaps - we were.”

He smiled at her lovingly. “I’d say so, too. After all, it didn’t take us very long to em - get married after that, Dearest.” 

OOO

Severus’ head was whizzing with confusion. The scene he had just witnessed, had had much of an effect on him. The idea that he could possibly experience such love and happiness as he had just seen, left him completely stunned.

He hadn’t expected such a thing for himself anymore. He really did wish for it when he had been younger, but somehow, it had always seemed to be just barely outside of his reach.

He could stretch out for happiness as much as he wanted, he always failed to get it. Always did something to mess it all up.

The really good things in life seemed to slip right through his fingers. It had been to no use at all. As much as he might have wished for it, love and affection seemed always to have been meant for others but him.

Back at school, he had liked a girl, once. But she hadn’t cared about him. She never even knew he’d had a crush on her. She had chosen another. And now they were dead and buried. It had been a very sad experience for him. Though he hadn’t been exactly heartbroken because of her, it had still hurt bad enough.

It had been an experience to be silently added to the pile of disappointments and misfortunes that had made him become the kind of cold-hearted and contrary man he was.

There was no such a thing as the one, tragic incident that had made him turn out that way.

He had managed to screw up his life all by himself - somehow. And he had done a fairly good job at it.

He had soon enough noticed, he did possess great magical talent though. Especially with Potions. But he had also been very well aware of his lack of ability on emotional basis. To gain as much power as possible, had appeared to him as his only option in life. He had been a very easy gain for Voldemort, with an idea of life like that. Power. If he would have only known, what it would lead him into. He had been of excellent use to them as a Death Eater. His skills at Potions, combined with his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts, had been a priceless option for them to approach their aim.

He had done very much wrong in those days. He had never killed anyone with his own hands or wand – but he had brewed potions for Voldemort, which wasn’t any better in his opinion.

More or less harmless ones, like Polyjuice Potion for spying tasks or Veritaserum for interrogations. But also other ones that weren’t half as harmless. Concoctions that altered the drinker’s personality, Willpower Weakening Essence, Amnesia Potion or plain and simply - Poison.

If it hadn’t been for Albus, he would be probably be rotting away in Azkaban right now.

The old man had offered him a teaching position at Hogwarts, when nobody else would have done so.

Albus had been the only one who had shown Severus trust and forgiveness, ever. Not that many people knew about his dark days, anyway. Disgusted with himself for what he had done as a Death Eater, Severus had locked himself away from the world completely. He had hidden himself behind a pile of books and many rolls of parchment, lost to his dark, mournful thoughts of regret and self loathing. Until the shadows of the dungeons around him seemed to have spread into the depths of his mind and soul. Till their coldness had drained all warmth out of him and his whole personality had finally become just as bitter and poisonous as his concoctions. A sad excuse for a life – all-in-all …

Completely absorbed by these thoughts, Severus almost missed the moment, when the future Hermione appeared at the end of the corridor and headed right for the door that had just closed behind their other selves.

He snapped out of his brooding just in time to intercept her. As soon as he had managed to pull the Invisibility Cloak off his head behind a large pillar, he stepped into sight.

The future Hermione stopped with surprise. She looked so tired, he noticed; uncomfortably aware of the fact that this was because of – well  - him.

Her face lit up though, as soon as she saw him. “Severus –  What are you doing here?“

“Hermione-” his own voice sounded strange to him at the use of her first name.

He tried to smile at her, the way he had seen his future self doing, but doubted he actually succeeded.

“I’ve been a little – worried about you - and I - I just wanted to make sure you were all right, D-Dear,” he declared hesitatingly.

“Oh- Sev,” she muttered as she smiled, “that’s just so sweet of you, Love.” She reached out for him and with as much courage as he could manage, he stepped forward and took her into his arms. He would have done anything, to prevent her from entering his rooms right now. Her arms encircled his waist as she leaned in to him.  

He held her close, his chin resting on her crown of head. Her hair smelled of apple-blossoms and dry summer-grass and there was something more, a soft, female scent of her skin that made his heart flutter. Just as it had, when he had embraced her former self at their time- travelling. It made his throat get tight.

She was so close. He could feel the warmth of her body through the cloth. It didn’t feel bad at all.

It was quite appealing. It felt good, to hold her like this. To just hold her. To feel her soft warm body in his arms. To know she wasn’t repulsed, but wanted to be held by him like this. He closed his eyes to just feel her - only for a moment - a short, peaceful moment. 

When her hands came up, to softly caress his neck and shoulders, he slowly opened his eyes again.

“Well, are you fine then?” he asked tensely.

“Of course I am, Love, don’t worry.”

She didn’t manage to look too convincing, though, and so he leaned back a little to survey her appearance. “You’re sure about that?“ he asked suspiciously. “You don’t look too well to me.”

She sighed deeply. “No, - actually, you’re right.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. Glancing, a little helplessly, down on her, Severus detected she had dense dark-brown eyelashes and her pale cheeks were sprinkled by very few, very faint freckles. He had never noticed this from afar.

“I just managed to throw up during my Arithmancy class, and decided to take a little rest before I return to teaching,” she muttered into his chest.

“Oh!” was all he could manage at that news. She lifted her head and smiled at him, a faint glance of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Well – not _in_ the classroom, luckily – I reached the nearest bathroom - but it was a very close thing.”

To his utmost surprise he didn’t find the idea disgusting at all. He just felt - well, actually worried about her. How strange. “I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly, stroking her back in an awkward movement. “Are you feeling better now?”

She leaned in a little closer to him at that. “Not really. I’m still terribly sick.”

“Oh- Do you think, you’ll have to…” he began nervously, but to his great relief, she shook her head. “Not right now, no.”

“Are you dizzy? Shall I carry you?” he asked carefully.

“No. That’s not necessary, Severus.” She smiled. “But if you’d see me to bed, I would be grateful.”

“O-of course I will,” he muttered and suddenly, on an impulse, he exclaimed: “Oh Hermione, I’m really sorry it’s this bad for you –I-”

His fingertips brushed a few strands of her curly masses of hair out of her face, in a soft, caressing movement.  

This brought another mischievous twinkling into her eyes. “Oh, no need to be sorry, Love. It’s - well, I did ask for this after all, didn’t I? So I certainly shouldn’t complain now.”

“That seems logical,” he couldn’t help but agree with her, half smiling himself. But her next words caught him completely off guard. 

“And I won’t complain, I’m so happy, I‘m with your child – again,” she added tenderly. “I love you so much, Severus. And I wish the baby to be a little boy - who looks - just like you.”

His heart skipped a beat at that. Fighting his confused feelings, he mimicked: “The poor child – are you certain about that?!”

She just laughed, stroking his cheek in a tender gesture. “Yes, very certain, Love.”

He didn’t know what to reply, nor what to do. So he just held her and told her softly. ”I’m sorry you’re that sick, nonetheless - Hermione. I wish - things would be –easier for you. I wish there could be anything I could do …”

“Oh-Sev,” she whispered and kissed his cheek tenderly, “-you’re so sweet. You’re so tender and caring around me and Tina and – I’m so – deeply and hopelessly in love with you.”

She reached out, to softly caress his cheek again.

“Don’t you worry that much about me, Dearest, it’s just these first few weeks, you know – I’ll be much better soon.”

“I hope so, D-dearest.” His gaze locked with hers, his dark eyes glittering. “I really do…”

“Professor Snape?” a sudden voice called from behind them.

Severus whirled around immediately. “Hm-yes? What is it?” he rasped sharply.  

A young girl, a fifth year probably, appeared at the bend in the corridor, staring at them in complete shock.

“Oh-my-  I - I’m sorry, sir!” she stuttered, blushing a deep shade of crimson. “I didn’t mean to – intrude. I well, I just meant to check on  - erw Mrs. Snape.” She glanced at the future Hermione as if seeking help there. “Are you all right, Professor?”

The future Hermione turned towards the scared girl, with a friendly smile. “Yes, Amanda, I’m quite fine again. Thank you for asking, dear, it’s very kind of you.“

The girl gave her a shy smile at that. “But – you just thr-r- er got all sick and I-”

“I’m under the impression Miss - your Professor had just told you, she was fine, young Lady,” Severus glared at her, being his nasty self again. Damn thing – he knew neither her name, nor her house. He could hardly take any points from her like that, could he?

“So would you please be so  _-kind_ ,” he snarled dangerously slowly, “to just _leave_  --  and not to intrude on our privacy?”

He suddenly felt the soft touch of the future Hermione’s hand on his forearm. She looked up at him with loving eyes, then back at the girl again.

“I guess I’ll just lay down for a few minutes. Would you tell the others, the class is dismissed, Amanda? And please inform the second years, their lesson will be cancelled as well. I’m in no condition to teach right now. I’ll be back in the afternoon, I suppose.”

“But, how could you possibly know – you’ll be-” the girl started, then trailed off, as realisation drew in to her.

“Oh-” she blushed. Her eyes wandered over the both of them and flinched back at another deathly glare from Severus. “O-of course, Professor.”

“Thank you, Amanda,” the future Hermione added calmly. The girl cast her a shy smile again. “I hope you’ll get better soon, Professor Snape.”

Once again Severus flinched, but relaxed, when noticing it wasn’t him, she was addressing.

With a last awkward glance in his direction, the girl backed away and left in a hurry.

Severus released his breath. “Brilliant,” he snarled with a sour expression on his face, “I expect the whole school will know in no time now.”

To his utmost confusion, he found the future Hermione chuckling about that. “Well it’s nothing that could be denied anyway, Love, is it?”

She softly brushed her lips against his jaw, whispering: “They would have found out anyway, soon. It’s only a matter of time until it becomes most visible. I dare say it will be obvious to everyone due my waist’s shapelessness around Christmas at the latest.”

She looked kind of worried about this all of a sudden. “I didn’t think - you might mind it so much, what others are to say, Severus. I thought you …You said, you wished for this, too. So why-”

For some reason, Severus felt really bad all of a sudden. The worried tone in her voice clung to his heart. He’d done it again – he’d hurt someone by his thoughtlessness. But this time it was someone who loved him. It was - _her_ \- and it made him feel really horrible, this time.

“O-of course I did,” he muttered softly, trying his best to act in the manner of his future self. He tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand and looked at her. “And don’t you worry about your appearance. You’ll be always beautiful, Dear. No matter in what state of pregnancy you are. It’ll only make you more lovely.”

Where did that come from, he wondered, taken aback. He had never thought of the looks of a pregnant woman’s belly, as appealing. But now - the imagination of Hermione in a late state of pregnancy, made his heartbeat rush.

It seemed to have been the right thing to say for once, he noticed. Her eyes lit up with mirth and she reached up to place her arms around his neck. 

“I guess, you’re not quite objective at that matter, Severus. But thank you, anyway. Being beautiful in your eyes means a lot to me, Love.”

Severus had to swallow hard at that comment and before he even knew what was happening, he had pulled her into his arms again.

Their lips met and every rational thought or doubt seemed to have gone frome his mind. It was bliss – nothing but breathtaking, white-hot bliss and happiness and – it felt so - right.

It felt just right to kiss her. To hold her like this. To feel her hands tangled in his hair, her belly pressing against his. Her pregnant belly. A wave of happiness branded through him at that thought.

‘She’s mine,’ he realized with happy shock, ‘she’s all mine. She loves me.’

He lost himself in a whirl of confused thoughts and feelings. She loved him. It was his child she carried and that little girl he’d seen earlier, was his as well. And Hermione –  She had given her to him. She was married to him for nearly five years now and still wanted him. She had to know him better than anyone else and didn’t turn her back on him. How could that be true? And now she was even pregnant, a second time, and had told him she wanted the baby to look just like him. How he’d love to experience how it felt to be loved like that.

He was kissing her more intensely now. In caressing, seductive movement his tongue started to teasingly nudge and brush against her lower lip and with a soft whimpering noise, her lips parted, inviting him to deepen the kiss. It felt good. So warm and right …

He felt her returning the kiss, her tongue met his in a sweet, caressing way that made him feel all dizzy from joy. His body reacted most obviously– he didn’t care if she noticed – she most certainly did, but didn’t seem to mind. She leaned even closer to him and her hands started to caress his back in lovingly kneading movements.

Then suddenly, she broke the kiss to look at him. “You’re incredible, Dearest, honestly,” she teased. “How on earth, can you actually be up to - this - again, after last night?”

At that, Severus’ eyes lost their dazed expression and snapped into focus again. “What?” he gasped with shock, realizing who and where he was.

“Oh, don’t play the innocent on me, will you?” the future Hermione smiled. “I can tell you one thing, Dear,” she whispered mischievously at him, “If I wouldn’t have been pregnant already – I could easily be so now.”

“What? Ohh-” he could feel his blood boiling with lust at the imagination of – _that –_

Things were obviously getting out of hand here. He needed to end this, before he did something he would regret for sure. But would he?

After all, this future Hermione was his wife anyway. A wife he would obviously love and adore beyond everything. A wife, he had already one child with and whom he had impregnated a second time. It couldn’t possibly do any harm, if he actually did, what he would so obviously do to her anyway, could it? Did that make any sense, he wondered. He wanted her so badly, right now. He’d never wanted anything so much in his life –  Holding her like this just felt so – so right, but still –

It wasn’t supposed to happen, this way, was it? This Hermione’s love, wasn’t his to take. As odd as the thought might be, it felt like cheating on himself – somehow. A love of the kind this future Hermione held for him, needed to be earned and it wouldn’t be right to make her believe she would be giving in to her beloved husband, when all he could offer her, was just - well plain and simple sex at the moment. It wouldn’t be any better than to sneak up into someone’s bedchamber by the help of Polyjuice Potion, pretending to be someone different – someone beloved – a disgusting thought.

Or maybe, it wasn’t quite the same. At least it was really him whom she wanted, but – he wasn’t that version of himself right now. It was all a matter of – time.

After all - he didn’t love her, did he? Of course, he didn’t - he couldn’t possibly love her yet. It was probably just wantonness, nothing else. He felt completely incapable of any deeper emotion right now, although he had finally discovered his need for it at least. Oh dear, what a mess. He would have to sort out a lot of things.

If that pitiful life of his had taught him one thing, it was self-control. Steeling himself against the desperate wish, to just give in to those bewitching sensations of  warmth and need, he drew back from her - reluctantly. In more than one way he had a task to fulfil, before he could reach out for her like that. 

If anyone would have told him only back this morning, he would find himself married to Hermione in the time they were heading to, he would not have believed a word of it. He would have sneered at them in his most bitter, nastiest sort of way. He would have made snide, repulsive remarks about something he desired beyond everything else in the world - now.

How odd time-travelling could be …. how dangerous …

He just would not have considered it possible to find himself a loving husband and father at any time, but now that he had seen with his own eyes, it was something completely different.

He longed to become this tender, caring and less bitter version of himself. It seemed so much more appealing to him, than his present one. 

Reluctantly, he led her away, remembering she was not well after all. And this time the endearment rolled over his tongue far more easily than the last. “Come Sweetheart, you need some rest now.”

OOO

Hermione was lying in the large four-poster bed with the dark-green velvet curtains, unable to relax at all. Severus and the little girl had just left the room for Potions class.

She was a mess of confused feelings. This new side of Snape was so unbelievable, strangely wonderful. She needed to sort her emotions out. How tenderly he had seen her to bed earlier. The loving look in his eyes, and that sweet kiss he had given her. Who would have supposed, the spiteful, ill tempered Professor Snape could be gentle – like this … So caring. So tender. So much in love with her. 

While she was still wondering about the mess of feelings and her strange reaction to his touch, the sudden creaking of the door was heard.

It was – him. Her eyes met with his and she could tell for sure, it was not the husband-one.

His mouth formed the word – ‘Hide’ – and she slipped out of bed, silently.

He was most obviously not alone.   

 

**A/N:** Thanks for leaving kudos. I’m happy you like it!

Smiles, Serpentina


	4. Dragons and Unicorns

**From this day on**

Chapter 4                 _-Dragons and Unicorns-_

Hidden beneath the bed, Hermione watched Snape entering the room along with her future self.

_‘She looks – I - look so pale,’_ Hermione thought _‘and tired.’_ She noticed, Snape had placed an arm around ‘her’ and led her carefully towards the bed.  

They left her visual angle, when they approached her hiding place, but she could still hear their conversation. For all it looked like, Snape carefully saw her other self to bed and tucked her in and when she leaned up towards him, he seemed to kiss her once again.

His voice was all soft and silky, Hermione noticed. “There, Dearest,” he muttered, “just take a little nap, it’ll help.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right. Severus-”

“Yes-”

“I love you-”

“Oh-Hermione-”he seemed to be kissing her other self again. “Her-mm-ion –”

“Sev-”

While her future self was so obviously distracted by his kisses, Hermione slipped hurriedly out of the room.

She was followed only slightly later, by - him. He silently closed the door and looked at her, his dark eyes intense and unreadable.

There was a most awkward silence between them that made Hermione shift uneasily from one foot to the other.

“Professor Snape?”

She noticed that he flinched slightly at the formal address.

“Well, Miss Granger,” he sneered, “be aware that I am just as surprised by this little idyll as you are.”

Hermione did not know how to respond to this. Snape raised his eyebrows at her and his lips curled into his trademark sneer once more. “I certainly can not imagine, how all this might be going to happen, but -”

“Professor Snape?” a sudden voice called behind them, causing the addressee to stop in mid-sentence and whirl around.

“That is you, too,” Snape hissed at her, “react appropriately -”

Hesitatingly, Hermione took a step into sight.   

“Ah, Hermione, ye’re better again?!” Hagrid’s huge, massive shape approached them. Hermione noticed, he looked kind of worried.

“Did anything happen?” Snape asked tensely.

“Ahh, well,” Hagrid rubbed his wild, black beard in an uneasy gesture, “I don’ know. The lil’ lass is missin’. Must’ave tricked me once again. I just left a sec’nd to check on the Nifflers an’when I came back, she was off, tricky little Missy that she is. Can’t find her anywhere.” 

Severus was the first to recover. This situation required some subtle intuition. He and Miss Granger had to act as their future, married selves now.

“It is all right Hagrid,” he responded as calmly as possible. “She will come to Potions class with me again. I have already sent her down there.”

Hagrid frowned slightly at that. “Ye’ shouldn’ allow the lil’ thing to sneak aroun’ all by herself like that, Professor. She’s such a lil’ girl still.” 

Severus glared at him. “Is that supposed to mean, I do not care about my daughter?”

“Hardly,” Hagrid muttered with a wide grin, “everyone knows, the lil’ lassie is all Daddy’s girl. But she twists ye’ aroun’ her lil’ finger, ye’ know?”

Snape frowned again. “She is a good girl,” he remarked tensely.

“Yeah, she is. But she can be a lil’ devil, sometimes. And she knows quite well, how to get from ye’, whatever she wants,” Hagrid grinned at Severus’ utterly stunned expression. “Oh com’ on, Professor, she knows quite well, she gets her every wish fulfilled, ye’ can’t  deny that.”

“She is no spoiled brat,” Severus frowned, “she is a sweet little girl. She is smart and I am glad, if I can make her smile.”

‘Oops,’ Hermione thought, ‘he is playing that part incredibly well.’

“Oh yes,” she sighed, mixing into the conversation, “this time, it was a dog.”

Snape gave her a mock smile at that. “But a dog is a nice idea, Dear. It holds so many options. We could train him to search for students out of bed, don’t you think so? He could work along with Mrs. Norris. This would leave me far more time to spend with - you – and Tina.”

Hermione noticed the glimpse of humour that danced in his beetle-black eyes.

“I don’t think that’s what she had in mind D-Dearest,” she smiled back at him, almost tripping over the unfamiliar term of endearment.

“Thank you for looking after her, Hagrid,” she added kindly into her friend’s direction and a broad smile appeared on his face.

“Ahh, ye’ know, I like her a lot, Hermione. Even if she’s a lil’ trouble, sometimes.” He grinned again. ”Ye’ know what? Today she knocked my cauldron over, stuffed in several weeds an’ leaves an’ a lot o’ mud from the pumpkin patch an’ played Potions Mistress in the middle of my hut. An’ when I complained about it, she just told me she was brewing ‘Get Well Potion’ for her Mummy.”

Hermione noticed the slight smile that twitched around Snape’s lips at that idea.

“She is a clever girl,” he threw in, almost sounding proud.

Hagrid nodded at that. “Aah, yea, she is. But ye’ know what? I’m already dreadin’ the day, when I’ll have to look after two of them. Or probably even more, after this one, I guess?” he asked teasingly.

Hermione’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I ..ew-m ..” She couldn’t think of anything to respond. It was such a damn embarrassing situation.

A gentle hand was placed at her waist and though she was really caught by surprise, it made her feel a lot of better and less insecure - somehow. “Well, we’ll see, Hagrid.” Snape remarked calmly.

Hagrid grinned once more. “Tell the lil’ lassie, she can finish her ‘potion’ tomorrow.”

After Hagrid had left, they had to face each other again.

Snape immediately drew his hand back as if he feared to burn himself at the soft contact. The air was filled with a kind of tension that made it almost impossible to breathe.

“Emm, Professor,” Hermione began timidly, but was silenced by one of his dark scowls.

“Not a word, Miss Granger,” he frowned, “I’m in no mood to discuss things right now.”

“Oh-of course not, neither am I … I..” she muttered, staring at her feet in embarrassment.

“As the potion is hidden in the bedroom, we will have to wait for afternoon lessons to fetch it, I suppose,” he told her a little calmer. “Or maybe even supper time.”

“Oh and what – are we to do till then?” Hermione asked awkwardly.

“We might .. go for - a walk ..” Snape suggested with a trace of insecurity. Hermione noticed that his dark eyes clearly avoided hers. For the first time she wondered how he might feel about this whole mess. He had to feel just as uncomfortable with the situation as she did; this could not be easy for him either.

Silently, she watched him walking over towards the large stone pillar, picking up the Invisibility Cloak.

As they wanted to avoid - by all means - to be stuck under the cloak together right now and Snape was supposed to teach Potions at that time, only he hid beneath it, whereas Hermione stayed - visible.

After all the times she had been sneaking around the school with Harry and Ron under a cloak like that, it was a strange feeling not to be part of the ‘Invisibility’ now. It was quite similar to the encounter, when she had walked through the streets of Hogsmeade next to an invisible Harry in their third year. She had not liked it back then either and now, an invisible Snape accompanied her, which might be even worse in her opinion.

In the Entrance Hall, they met Professor McGonagall, who was on the way to the staff room.

“Oh Hermione, dear,” the elder witch smiled fondly at her, “are you well again?”

‘Arrr- no! Not that again!’ Hermione groaned inwardly.

“I’ve heard about your erw …problem … during the Arithmancy lesson from my sixth years.” She shot an intense look at her. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

Hermione felt the blood creeping into her face again. “Oh, em, - yes,” she muttered quite shyly.

“Oh,” McGonagall’s stern features lit up with a mirthful smile as she pulled her younger colleague into a brief hug. “Oh, Hermione, that’s wonderful news! I’m so happy for you – and Severus,” she declared.

Hermione blushed even more at that, awkwardly aware of the invisible Professor Snape, standing right beside them. “Well, we .. we ..we’re .. happy, too,” she stammered, “We …”

McGonagall smiled at her. “I still don’t know what you see in him, dear. But it must be something really good as he makes you so very happy.”

“Well, he is ..he’s …I love him … very much …” Hermione stuttered, trying her best to sound convincing.

“There’s no doubt about that, my dear,“ McGonagall smiled, “and he’s so completely taken with you as well – I would have never considered it possible that he might care so deeply about anyone. I’m truly happy – for both of you.”

All Hermione could manage to return, was a faint smile.

The silence that spread between her and her ‘invisible’ companion, as soon as McGonagall had left, was once again an awkward one. Finally Hermione send an anxious glance in the direction where she supposed Snape to be, “I em, … will head down towards the lake now,” she muttered, still horribly embarrassed.

“Feel free to go wherever you please, Miss Granger,” Snape hissed, from the other direction, “I can very well follow you. If I might remind you, you’re not the one who’s invisible here – that’s me.”

OOO

In the evening, they made sure their future selves and little daughter went to the Great Hall for dinner, before they slipped into the bedroom to get the potion.

The late glow of day crept through the round light-wells and tipped the room into soft reddish and golden light.

“Where is it?” Hermione whispered tensely.

“Over there,” Snape nodded in the direction of a large bookshelf next to the door. “There’s a secret drawer behind some of the books,” he explained in a hushed voice.

Hermione noticed a large, dark-green armchair, covered and surrounded by various toys, positioned in front of the shelf. There were several little dolls in the shapes of animals. She recognized a large, poisonous-green dragon, a silvery-white unicorn, some fluffy owls and a female centaur with long blond pigtails. “So those are wizards’ Barbies,” she muttered, grinning.

“What?” Snape asked in complete confusion.

“Oh, never mind.” She turned her head away from him, having clear difficulties to hide the smile that crept over her face at the blank look in his eyes. 

Exactly in front of the armchair towered a huge, elaborate construction of small wooden blocks, in the shape of a castle.

“I assume it’s best if you try to get those bottles out of there, Miss Granger,” Snape told her. “We can’t move that armchair without destroying this beautiful model of Hogwarts,” his lips switched slightly, “but we mustn’t change anything, or they’ll know someone has been here. I don’t expect us to be able to rebuild it later on, in just the same way.”

Once again Hermione had difficulties to hide a smile. The idea of kneeling at the floor with Snape, rearranging the wooden blocks into a castle was just too strange.

“Not to mention, how disappointed little Tina would be to find it in ruins at her return,” she remarked dryly. Again she noticed his desperate efforts not to smile.

This wasn’t easy at all, Hermione decided as she crept slowly into the narrow gap between armchair and bookshelf, carefully aware not to knock anything over at her movements.

She put aside the books Snape pointed out to her. But she had barely stretched her forearm into the narrow opening to reach for the tall, slim bottles, when suddenly two arms encircled her waist in a rushed movement and pulled her backwards.

To her shock, Hermione found herself in Snape’s tight embrace on the floor the very next second. She was completely taken aback by this. “Professor?” she gasped and tried to wrestle herself from his embrace, “What ..”

But he just gripped her tighter at that. “Stop that wriggling, Miss Granger, you silly girl,” he hissed and pulled her into a half sitting position next to the book shelf. She just started complaining, when she suddenly noticed what had caused him to react that way and her eyes grew wide with shock.

With terrifying clearness, she recognized her own laughing voice outside and the future Snape’s equally laughing answer. When the dark wooden door opened the very next second, Hermione got all tense from shock, unable to move at all. Snape, on the contrary, reacted adequately. In a quick, fluid movement he wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around them.  

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone, who is following the story or left a kudo. It truly makes me happy.

Smiles, Serpentina


	5. Trapped

**From this day on**

Chapter 5                _-Trapped-_

Hermione held her breath. Anxiously, she watched their future selves enter the room. Snape was carrying their little daughter, who happily told him about the ‘potion’ she had brewed at Hagrid’s that day. He listened quite interested to her explanations.

“Really? And what happens, if you add bits of gravel to an essence of mud and weeds?” he asked fondly.

The little girl smiled. “It’ll get you all muddy in the face, if you don’t look out, and dump them too quickly into the cauldron!” she giggled.

“Oh,” he remarked grinning, “that must have been a surprise.” His eyes suddenly filled with concern, “You do know it’s not a real potion, Tina?” he asked worriedly. “You wouldn’t drink it, would you?!”

The little girl gave him a familiar smirk at that. “Of course, Daddy!” she sneered. “I’m not stupid. I’m four years old,” she declared proudly, “and I know things like that!”

“Of course you do. You’re my clever girl,” he kissed her cheek. “I just wanted to be sure about it, Tina.”

Now Hermione’s eyes were drawn to a glimpse of red at her side. She had not noticed, Crookshanks had entered the room with their other selves. He sniffed around and looked in their direction, his bright yellow eyes staring at the spot where they were hiding beneath the cloak. She could feel Snape’s grip tighten around her. He was obviously just as worried as she was. 

Suddenly she noticed how close they were to each other. She could feel the warmth of his body on her back. His chin leaned against her temple. His arms were still wrapped around her and she was literally sitting in his lap.

It was completely out of the question to move right now but she realised, she cared very little about the unfamiliar closeness. It was similar to the situation when he had embraced her during their time-travelling. For some strange reason it gave her a feeling of safety and support. She felt the tension leave her body as she leaned back on him.

After a few seconds, Crookshanks turned away from them. With a great leap, he jumped into the armchair and curled up between the various dolls. Hermione silently released her breath and was just about to relax, when Tina suddenly approached their hiding place.

The little girl knelt down very close to them and started to rearrange some of the wooden bits of ‘Hogwarts’.

The future Hermione turned her head at her little daughter. “Oh no, Tina, it’s quite late already. I think you should leave the rest for tomorrow, Sweetie.”

The little girl’s beetle-black eyes searched for the one she expected to support her. “Ohh- but I still haven’t finished the Astronomy Tower – Daddy!? You promised to help me with that.”

Hermione could feel Snape chuckling slightly in her back. “Cunning little witch,” she heard him mutter under his breath, “it’s unbelievable.”

Hermione’s lips formed into a smile, too. But the very next second her eyes widened with shock. “Shhh,” she hissed anxiously, “Be quiet! They’ll hear us?”

“You may not like me,” Snape sneered in a dangerously low voice, “but I’m – not – an idiot, Miss Granger. I cast a Muffling Spell on the cloak, when I threw it over our heads. It’s not as strong as a real Silencing Spell, so don’t speak loudly or make any sudden movements - I would have needed my wand for a spell like that - but it allows us to whisper.”

“Ohh,” Hermione breathed tentatively. “Does that mean, you don’t have your wand, Professor?”

“Honestly, Miss Granger,” he sneered, “it almost hurts to see a brilliant mind like yours do such slow thinking. Of course I have my wand! But I could hardly whip it out, perform a Silencing Spell, drag you out of that nook, prevent you from slamming your head on the bookshelf by catching you and throw the cloak over our heads all at once. I’m sorry if I destroy your illusions, but I’m only human - and it was a close thing anyway,” he added  sarcastically.

“S-so you –you-” she stammered, confused, and his lips formed into a smirk again.

“Do you think you could manage to speak in whole sentences, Miss Granger?”

“It was wand-less magic?!” she asked excitedly. “Really?!”

“Yes,” he replied calmly, “That’s why I couldn’t perform a real Silencing Spell.”

“Wow- “ she muttered, impressed, “That’s splendid, Professor!”

His lips switched and he almost broke into a smile at her praise. “Thank you for that assessment, Miss Granger,” he sneered sarcastically, “I really appreciate it.”

There while the future Snape fell to pieces at his little girl’s pleading gaze. “All right Sweetheart,” he smiled, “but just the Astronomy Tower.”

Hermione watched, thunderstruck, as he kneeled down on the floor next to her. The little girl clapped her hands with joy. “Oh fine, Daddy! I’ll get some more stones! Just wait ...” With that she jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.

‘Daddy-Snape’ kept sitting at the floor and looked at his wife, who shook her head in amusement at him. “You’re a hopeless case, you know that Severus?” she smiled. “How is she supposed to ever learn the meaning of ‘no’, if you’re acting like that? Hagrid is quite right. You’re twisted around her little finger - and she knows it.”

“So what?” he smiled, playing with one of the wooden bits in his hands. “I’m enjoying it greatly. Like I enjoy being twisted around your little finger as well. I know I am. But I don’t mind it at all. I’m happy. I don’t want to have it any other way.”

They exchanged a tender glance and smiled at each other. 

“Let Tina finish her Astronomy Tower – she has so much fun and if she stays up half an hour longer, it won’t do any harm.”

Right then, little Tina appeared again, carrying a large box of wooden bits.

“Oh my,” Hermione heard Snape sigh behind her, “that’s enough for a detailed model of Hogsmeade as well. Are you seated comfortably, Miss Granger? This might take some time.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him in a low whisper. “But maybe you could move your right leg  slightly, Professor? My foot is starting to get tired this way.”

“Oh-” he carefully shifted his position a little. “Is this better?”

“Yes, lots better, thank you Professor.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Granger.”

They silently watched his future self and little Tina build an amazingly detailed model of the Astronomy Tower out of various-shaped wooden blocks.

“And these, Tina?” the future Snape asked and held up a different block.

“That’s going to be Hagrid’s hut,” she told him. “We can build it afterwards.”

“Oh no-” the Snape in Hermione’s back moaned and she giggled softly.

“Shhh-” he hissed annoyed, tightening his grip around her. “Shut up you little fool! The spell can’t cover careless giggling noises like these. They mustn’t know we’re here!” 

“No Tina,” they heard his future self respond softly. “It’s really time to go to bed now.”   

The little girl’s eyes went wide at that. “Oh Daddy,” she pleaded. “Couldn’t we at least – start - with the Divination Tower? Oh pleeeease?!” 

The other Hermione, who had returned from the bathroom wearing her night-dress, gave him a mock smile, but said nothing.

“No princess,” he answered, smiling back at his wife, “Sybil will have to wait until tomorrow, I’m sorry.”

The future Hermione nodded appreciatively at that statement and he grinned proudly. “Come on now, Tina,” he got up and reached out his hand. The little girl followed the order a little reluctantly. “All right,” she finally agreed, “but tomorrow we’ll continue?”

“Of course, we will.”

She smiled. “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“May I take Crookshanks to my room with me again?”

The future Snape exchanged a brief glance with his wife, then nodded. “Yes, but you’ll leave the door ajar so he can get out if he wants, will you?”

“Oh yes, of course I will,” the little girl beamed. Carefully she picked the sleeping tomcat up and carried him to her room.

Afterwards she hurried in the bathroom to get ready for bed. “Crookshanks didn’t mind I disturbed him to carry him to my room. He just stretched and yawned as I put him on the bed  - he’s already back asleep again,” she called from the bathroom.

“Well that’s very wise of him,” the future Hermione remarked, grinning “and you should join him at that now, Dear.”

She smiled at her husband. “I’ll have a check on her to make sure she brushes her teeth correctly.”

“Oh honestly,” Snape frowned, “can’t they simply leave the room all together for once, so we can get out of here? I don’t want to be trapped like this all night.”

“Neither do I,” Hermione gave back in annoyance. “This is hardly the position I’d want to spend the night in.”

“I can’t see what you’ve to complain about, Miss Granger,” he frowned. “Would you have preferred to get caught by them, perhaps?”

“By us, you mean.”

“That’s not us,” he frowned back, “that’s a poor lovesick fool and his manipulative wife.”

“What’s manipulative about her?” Hermione arched her brows at him.

“He worships the floor she steps on and she teases the poor man all the time.”

“But it’s all meant well - she loves him.”

“She, Miss Granger?” he mocked. ”Didn’t you just tell me - they - were us?”

“Ewm,” Hermione grumbled, awkwardly aware of what that sentence sounded like.

“So maybe it’s not – us - then,” Snape concluded dryly. “They are ‘mysteries’ to me, Miss Granger,” he hissed, “they are behaving completely strangely. We can not even guess what their reaction will be if they discover us in their bedroom.” 

“But we look like them.”

“I was under the impression, you were familiar with the effects of Polyjuice Potion, Miss Granger,” he sneered.

Hermione blushed with embarrassment at the memory of her unpleasant experience with that potion in her second year. “Maybe they know about the potion we’re looking for,” she suggested shyly, “Dumbledore said, it might be possible.”

“Do you want to risk that, Miss Granger?” Snape glared at her.

“No-“ she responded timidly.

“So - I’d really appreciate it, if you dropped that idea now,” his lips were pressed into a thin line. “Oh, what’s that?” he suddenly frowned at the sight of his future self, who obviously started to prepare for bed, too. “It’s hardly nine o’clock, what on earth is he doing?”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin. “Well, I imagine he’s going to bed, Professor.”

“That early?” Snape remarked startled. “Oh damn,” he hissed all of a sudden, “what is he doing now?!”

Hermione noticed, the future Snape began to take his robes off. “O-oh-“ she tried her best to suppress a broad grin, but was not too successful at it. Well - that might become quite interesting –

The Snape in front of her eyes was already busy unbuttoning his black, long-sleeved shirt and she could catch a glimpse on curly black hair, covering his chest – it was not a bad sight at all.

“Miss Granger,” the Snape in her back hissed in annoyance. “Don’t stare at me like that!”

“I’m not staring at - you - Professor,” Hermione told him in her sweetest voice. “That’s not you – that’s ‘the lovesick fool’, remember?”

“Close your eyes!” he snapped sharply. “There’s nothing for you to look at!!”

She noticed the trace of panic in his voice and her grin widened. “But Professor-” she started again – but was cut short by his sharp order.

“Miss Granger, I - insist - you close your eyes at once!” he glared. “Don’t you dare watch me – erw, him er-w – well, erw- Don’t you dare watch – this-” he sounded so embarrassed it was almost cute.

Obediently, Hermione pretended to close her eyes, but watched his future self from beneath lowered lashes, without Snape’s notice. She had to admit, he looked rather good. He was out of that shirt now. His skin was pale, like his face, but it looked really good that way. It simply suited him. She couldn’t imagine him with a tan. He had a nice back, narrow hips and was surprisingly lean and muscular, for a man who spent most of his time teaching or working in a lab. The major muscle groups were outlined without being prominent. She felt a slight flutter in the pit of her stomach as she allowed her eyes to wander down his bare chest. He wasn’t half as skinny as she had imagined, but quite lean and good-looking. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her throat went dry at the thought of what she would so obviously do with this man.

Well not with that one, who was taking his clothes off in front of her eyes right now, but with the one who was sitting at her back, and whose arms still held her in a tight embrace. With the one who now leaned forward to check if her eyes were really closed. “You aren’t looking, are you -?” he asked suspiciously.

She felt a wave of heat rush through her body at his closeness. “O-of course not, P-Professor,” she assured him a little too quickly. 

“I don’t trust you,” he muttered softly into her ear. She felt his warm breath tickling her neck and shivered slightly, but couldn’t take her eyes off of his future self, nonetheless. The last she saw, were his slender, fine-boned hands opening the belt buckle of his black slacks, before a hand covered her eyes and kept everything else from her view.

“O-ooh -” she gasped, disappointed.

“Ha! -So I was right-” Snape whispered triumphantly, his breath brushed softy across her skin again. She shivered once more. It made the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. 

“Are you cold, Miss Granger?” he mocked in a low voice. Now that her eyes were safety covered by his hand, he sounded a lot more comfortable with the situation.

“N-not exactly,” she croaked out, feeling kind of nervous, now as she couldn’t see her surroundings anymore. It made her feel his nearness all the more.

“Well,” Snape chuckled and leaned closer to her, “I supposed so-” he whispered smoothly, his lips brushing her ear just a split second before he leaned back.

Hermione whimpered with surprise at the soft contact and he chuckled again. She felt kind of vulnerable. After all, she was sitting in his lap. And being restricted to the ability to hear and feel, made her notice every contact even more intensely.

“Be careful, Miss Granger, I’m not that lovesick fool over there, who’s completely wrapped around your finger. Don’t mess with me-” he told her softly.

Hermione whimpered again, completely caught in her confused feelings of – well, she couldn’t even tell what exactly she felt right now. She was kind of excited, but not frightened.

In a strange way she felt sheltered, but not calm at all. She felt terribly insecure and nervous to be precise, but she did not want to move away from him.

Her heartbeat rushed so madly, she was sure he could see her pulse throbbing where his warm breath brushed across her throat. She felt so weak, but loved it – she loved being weak right now. With another slight whimpering sound, she leaned her head back against his shoulder and turned her face towards his.

His hand slipped away from her eyes at that. It glided smoothly down across her cheek and came to rest at the tender flesh of her neck. The back of his thumb traced in a caressing movement along her jaw line, his index touching some sensitive spot behind her ear. She couldn’t tell if it was an unintentional movement, or if he did it on purpose.

It felt wonderful, and her strong reaction to his gentleness was a shock to herself. She knew she was acting strange and would probably regret it when she came to her senses again, but she simply couldn’t fight the strong feelings of longing deep in her chest. All she wanted right now, was his lips on hers. She remembered, how good it had felt to kiss his future self earlier that day. She still hadn’t recovered from the strange feeling of tenderness she had felt for him then.

She could have opened her eyes now – but she didn’t. She simply leaned closer to him and snuggled her face against the place where the curve of his neck met his shoulder. She felt his pulse at her temple. It was rapid, like her own. She noticed his very special scent again, as she had done as he had held her safe in his arms on their journey. She had noticed the same scent on his future self, too.

She loved it - it made her throat get tight with tension. She felt so strange. She felt his heart hammering in his chest which was pressed to her back, and just wanted to lean closer to him – she wanted to feel his lips on hers – she – could not think of any good reason why, but she wanted to be kissed by him – right now. It felt so good to be in his arms like this – it felt so right –

Well, if everything they had found in this time would come true, it probably was right. Their future selves seemed to care so deeply about each other. They seemed to be so much in love.

He was not right to think these were strangers. It was them. She wondered if she would feel the same way at his kiss as she had felt when his future self had kissed her, this morning – she wanted to know -

In a nervous gesture, she bit her lower lip and noticed he drew in a sharp breath at that. Slowly and longingly she tilted her head back and sighed, barely audible.     

“Be very careful, Miss Granger,” he breathed softly “and if you’re wise, you get out of my lap now.”

“O-oh,” she stammered but did not move at all.

When she looked up, she met his black, intense eyes. They were not cold and empty, the way they usually were. They were oddly alive. There was something strange and unreadable in them. His face was only inches from hers and she was almost sure, he would kiss her – now –

Her heart beat like mad with joy and excitement - she closed her eyes again.

Slowly and carefully, he leaned forward – some strands of his hair brushed across her cheek. Once more, she wondered how soft and silky it felt. He hesitated, his lips almost touched hers as he spoke. “Be careful what you wish for, Miss Granger,” he muttered in a low, silky kind of voice, “you might be given it.” 

The low creaking noise of a door made them snap out of it. Hermione noticed with surprise that her future self had returned from the bathroom. ‘She’ was already sitting in bed. Her feather quill scratched over the pages of a small leather-bound book.

Hermione raised her eyebrows with surprise as she recognised her diary. 

A smiling Snape in midnight-blue pyjamas appeared in the doorway. He watched the young woman in bed with loving eyes. “I’ll have a look at Tina. Then I’ll come to bed, too.”

“All right Sev,” she returned his smile tenderly, “but don’t take too long, will you? I’m almost done with this,” she pointed at the well-thumbed diary in her hands.

“No,” he smiled gently, “I’ll be right back. I won’t let you wait too long, I promise.” He crossed the room and left for the study next door, which obviously lead to Tina’s room. 

After only a few moments he was back. ‘His’ Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise at him. “Wow, that was quick-”

“She’s already asleep,” he told her smiling.

“Oh, that’s a nice change, for once,” she grinned. “Maybe there’s hope.”

“We’ll get further disturbances to deprive us of a good night’s sleep, soon enough, I suppose,” he smiled. With a flip of his wand he extinguished the light. The bedroom was filled only by the soft glow of the single candle on her bedside table now.

The dark shape of his shadow danced across the walls in flickering movement as, he lifted the covers and crawled into bed next to her. Her lips switched slightly as he crept closer.                                                                                                  

The present Hermione noticed, that the future Snape rested his chin at ‘his’ Hermione’s shoulder and closed his arms around her in just the same way the present Snape held her right now.

And the future Hermione’s reaction to this was quite similar to her own. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as his lips brushed across the soft skin of her ear. “Sev-erus-”

“Aren’t you done yet, Darling?” he asked softly and started to place tiny kisses at her neck. 

“No-” she sighed, “but -oh, Sev, don’t distract me, will you? You know,” she giggled, “I can’t think straight, if you breathe at my neck and hold me like this-”

“Oh yes,“ he murmured, “I know that quite well …”

Not only the future, but also the present Snape chuckled at that declaration and Hermione noticed, how very close her own-time-Snape’s lips were to just the same sensitive spot of her neck right now. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the memory of her strange reaction to his warm breath at her ear and throat – she had practically begged him to kiss her. How embarrassing.

The Hermione in bed didn’t seem to have any second thoughts though. With a soft sigh, she put the diary down and turned towards her smiling husband. “All right – you’ve won,” she admitted with a slight laugh. “I’ll finish that entry tomorrow.”

“That’s nice to hear,” he whispered softly, before his lips covered hers in a loving kiss and her arms wound themselves around his neck.

The present Hermione shifted uneasily in her place in her own-time-Snape’s lap and his grip tightened around her to keep her still. Both of them stared in horror at the cuddling, kissing couple on the bed. When the activities became more passionate there, the tension between them became unbearable. Hermione wanted to inform the pair of their presence, but Snape didn’t agree to this.

“So what-” she whispered, annoyed, “would you rather stay in place and watch what happens?”

“Miss Granger,” he hissed at her, “don’t be ridiculous! I can hardly think of anything I would want to watch less. I want to get out of here as soon as possible …”

Hermione shivered slightly as the future Snape moaned her name softly.

‘His’ Hermione had started to slightly caress his ear and neck with her lips and the tip of her tongue and he most obviously liked it a lot. “Yes, Sevvie-Darling?“ she teased mischievously.

“Stop this,  or ..”

“Or what?” she whispered innocently, shoving her hands slowly under his pyjama-shirt. She started to caress his shoulders and chest in gentle, tiny circles, while she softly nibbled on his earlobe and neck. “Don’t you like this?”

“You know I do,” he moaned slightly, moving his hands through her thick masses of hair as he rolled her onto her back.

“O-oh yes, you like it.” she smiled as she pressed her hips closer to his, “you like it a lot, don’t you Love?!”

“Mm-Her-m-ione,” he sighed as her tongue started to softly tease him, slipping into his ear, and her hands wandered down his back, caressing their way to the edge of his pyjama-trousers.

“A-re you sure?” he whispered softly. “You know, what this will lead to, if you keep driving me crazy like this…”

“I know-” she laughed softly, “that’s why I do it!”

“Oh – are you sure, you’re feeling up to this again, Love?”

She grinned broadly at that. “Oh yes, very sure. How about you? Oh dear,” she chuckled, “I guess I don’t need to ask.”

A half muffled laughing was his response as he gently bit her neck. “Oh- Hermione,” he breathed softly, kissing his way down her skin. “You know all too well -- I’d  -- love -- to – continue - like -this –but…” he nuzzled her neck affectionately. “But you were so sick today – and tired – and I fear it might have been caused by what we did last night - you know - all the times we – had it then. I - I don’t want to – exhaust you further – my Darling.” He kissed her very tenderly.

Hermione softly cupped his face in both of her hands at that. “Oh Severus –  it’s not because of – this – it’s – well – it’s just because of – the baby.”

He smiled back very lovingly at her. “So it’s definitely – because of – this.” he kissed her again, “Isn’t it?”

She laughed at that. “Well, if you look at things, this way – it probably is.”

He kissed her once more, longer this time and more intense. “I love you, Hermione – I love you so much.”

“So do I,  Sev- so do I.” She returned his kiss passionately.

“So do I,” the present Hermione hissed back through gritted teeth. “I want to get out of here, too. I don’t want to witness this either. But – just in case you didn’t notice – that door over there, is locked. Professor!”

“Miss Granger- just for once in your life – hold your tongue!” Snape snapped at her in a low voice.

‘Great choice of words,’ he complemented himself the next second, ‘really – bloody brilliant.’  

The same thought apparently occurred to Hermione and she broke into a fit of laughter. But when she felt Snape freeze with shock at the sound of it, the laughter died in her throat. She clapped one hand over her mouth and stared at him with frightened eyes.

The pair on the bed jumped with surprise.

“” TINA !?””

Hermione slipped off from under the cloak. “No, it’s me- erw- us- I –I’m sorry…”

**A/N:** Thank you for all the encouragement.

Smiles, Serpentina


	6. ‘Monologues’ and blankets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very happy you like this story so far! 
> 
> To spare some confusion sections are separated as below:  
> OO  
> bold print - new POV  
> not bold – same POV but new scene
> 
> I hope you’ll enjoy.

 

Hermione Granger had never been so scared in her life.

In less than a second Severus Snape had jumped out of bed, and pointed his wand in the direction where the double of his wife had just appeared out of thin air.

“Who are you?!” he rasped dangerously and stepped forward. 

“H-Hermione Granger ..” she stuttered, terrified. She backed away from him with fear, but found the bookshelf in her back. “Professor Snape, I’m sorry, sir .. I ..” 

“You’re lying!” he interrupted her sharply. “There’s no Hermione Granger! My – _wife-”_ he stressed the word with dangerous sharpness, “is laying in bed over there. And I can assure you, if you try to do any harm to her, I’ll rip your throat out with my bare hands! Don’t think I’m joking, Miss…”

Before she could even think of any response to this, the dark shape of the present Professor Snape appeared next to her and stepped protectively in her way. “Don’t hurt her!!” he rasped in an equally dangerous tone at his future self. “She’s telling the truth!”

Hermione watched, terrified, how the two shapes of Severus Snape fixed each other in a death glare. Two identical wands were pointed at the opponent’s heart – prepared to kill.

All the horrible accidents McGonagall had told her about, rushed into her mind. Her own voice echoed in her head. She remembered her warnings to Harry not to interfere with anything, back in their third year. She remembered how she had told him that people might even kill their former or future selves if they believed they faced Dark Magic. And clearer than anything else - her own voice, mixed with the one of Professor Snape –  ‘We mustn’t be seen!’

It was all her fault. Confused and scared, she stepped forward. “Professor-” she pleaded desperately and tugged at his left sleeve - the one of his wand-hand. “Please don’t...”

“Miss Granger!” he gasped with shock, “what are you doing, foolish girl!?”

For a brief moment their eyes locked and she saw an amount of concern and worry in the black deeps she had not ever considered possible.

In a rough movement he shoved her behind his back. “Stay there!” The very next second, his wand was ripped from his hand and he stared at his future self in shock.

Brave-hearted, Hermione jumped forward – her wand in hand. “Don’t harm him!” she panted “he’s you!”

Her knees buckled with fear as she gazed into the dark, angry eyes of the future Snape.

She felt terribly helpless against this man, who - she knew – had once been a Death Eater, but stood her ground. What could she possibly hold against him, with his duelling skills and extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts?

But before any of them could cast as much as a single spell, her own time’s Snape grabbed her around the waist and pushed her roughly into the nook behind the armchair.

“Ouch-” she gasped with shock, “Professor what-”

“Keep your head down!” he commanded sharply “And get back to our time – now!”

“But Professor,” she stammered disturbed, “what about you -”

He forced a sharp laugh “I won’t need that Time-Turner anymore, Miss Granger! What do you think he’ll do to me? He thinks this is Dark Magic at work girl, now hurry! – Go!!”

“No,” she sobbed “I won’t leave you here like that –I - I - can’t…”

 

**OO**

 

The future Severus hesitated.

The desperation in her voice seemed so real. She acted so much like his Hermione probably would in a situation like this. She would not leave him either – he was sure about that.

And he – his eyes flickered insecurely across the two identical wands in his hands – he would never allow her to get involved in the fight. He would have acted just the same way as that man over there.

His eyes glided back to the ones of that familiar looking stranger in front of him and fixed his gaze. He did not want to harm them. But could he risk to trust them? It was not just his own safety he had to worry about. Hermione’s and Tina’s lives were at stake as well. And the baby’s –

He did not know what to do.

A sudden noise from the bed broke the tension. Hermione climbed out of the dark four-poster and hurried at his side.

“Oh Severus, that’s us. Remember the dreams …”             

“Hermione, “ he gasped, “get away!” But then he suddenly frowned, “Do you really think so?”

**OO**

 

Carefully, the younger Hermione lifted her head above the back of the armchair.

The pair across the room was talking to each other in hushed voices. The future Snape had not let them out of his view, but she noticed the thoughtful cast to his eyes.

A wave of relief rushed through her as he slowly lowered the wands. Still trembling, she got to her feet and stepped timidly out of the nook. She did not even notice the tears that were steaming down her cheeks as she took an unsteady step towards the dark-haired man, who stared at her with a look of wonder and disbelief in his black eyes.

“P-Professor” she sobbed, disturbed, her hands hesitantly reaching out for him. “Are you all right .. ?!”

 

**OO**

 

In a rushed movement he dashed forward and wrapped his arms around her.

“Miss Granger – Hermione-” he gasped hoarsely and pulled her close. “What the hell were you thinking, girl?” His voice was an odd mixture of anger and concern.

Sobbing, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and he just pulled her closer. “I’m sorry …” she snuggled her face in his shoulder and he cupped the back of her head carefully with his hand.

Severus still watched his future self across the room above her head, but when that one’s face broke into a broad grin, he focused his eyes onto the disturbed girl in his arms. She was trembling violently and clung to him as she had done on their terrifying journey.

“I’m sorry, too,” he whispered into her hair “I didn’t intend to hurt you. Is it bad?”

 

**OO**

 

“What?” Hermione asked in surprise and lifted her tearstained face up towards him. His dark eyes were full of concern and something - well, she did not know what to think of it. He had never looked at her that way before.

 “What are you talking about?” she whispered confused.

 “I needed to push you behind that armchair, I … wanted to keep you safe, Her-m-Miss Granger,” he told her desperately, “I thought he might cast a spell at us any second,” he added. “Are you hurt?”

 Hermione’s eyes grew wide with surprise at his soft, almost gentle tone. He seemed to be actually concerned about her. Her heart fluttered at the strange, but wonderful idea that he might possibly, actually care about her…

 “Oh,” she gasped, confused, and hid her face at his chest again. She felt a slight pain in her left ankle and had also hurt her left wrist as she had landed on the floor, but she would not tell him that right now. Determinedly, she shook her head. “No,” she muttered still crying, “I’m fine, .. I …”

 “Then why-“ he began softly, but trailed off at her violent sobbing.

 “You .. you told me to leave you here .. you…”

 “Shhh,” he muttered softly and started to rub her back awkwardly. “It’s all right – I’m not harmed,” then added more harshly, “Get a grip on yourself now, girl -”

 When he felt her tense at this, he whispered apologetically, “they are watching us, you know?” and let go of her.

Quite in contrast to their own confusion, their future selves seemed to find all of this very amusing. The future Hermione approached them with a broad grin on her face, dragging her still slightly suspicious but no less amused husband behind her. “Oh you’re from the past, aren’t you?”

As both of them simply nodded at that, she grinned again and held out her hand to her former self. “I’m Hermione Snape. I guess that’s a kind of shock to you,” she sniggered.

The younger Hermione shook ‘her’ hand and nodded. “Oh erw, yes, indeed, one could say so,” she blushed. “I nearly dropped dead, when I met Tina this morning,” she blurted out.

“Oh,” the future Severus frowned, “so that was you?!”

Hermione blushed furiously as she looked at him. “Erw, yes, I’m sorry, sir.”

He flinched at the address and the future Hermione shook with laughter at his startled look

“Oh wow, that’s weird!” she gasped.

 

**OO**

 

The present Severus glared at her in annoyance. “I’m sorry if I miss the fun in it!” he snapped.

 The future Hermione didn’t seem to be affected by his angry scowl, though. “Oh don’t look at me like that, Severus,” she grinned.

His eyebrows rose in annoyance at that. “I’d really appreciate it, if you wouldn’t call me by my first name, M-” he trailed off, frowning. Damn thing – he could hardly call that woman ‘Miss Granger’ anymore, could he?

“What else shall I address you then?” she mocked, “As Professor Snape?” She shrugged, “Well, if you insist on it. But I have to ask you to call me the same then.”

If looks could have killed, she might have dropped dead on the spot. Still laughing, she turned to her husband, “Come on, Sev, you should try and talk to yourself, too. It’s really something.”

Reluctantly, he stepped forward and nodded quite tensely at his younger self. “Severus -”

 

**OO**

The present Hermione could not help but stare at the two identical-looking men and her own future self in front of her eyes. It was the weirdest thing she had ever experienced. And for a close friend of Harry Potter that really meant something. Back in her third year, she had supposed it to be odd to watch a version of herself, who was only three hours younger than her, in the distance. But - this - was simply incredible.

To be actually talking to a version of herself, who was not only five years her senior, but also married - to Snape of all people – mother of his child – and – pregnant on top of it all - was really terrifying. Well, at least the pregnancy was not visible yet. She would have probably – died - of embarrassment, otherwise. Whenever she looked at ‘Mrs. Snape’, it was just like looking into a mirror. And having to face an almost identical version of herself with a visibly rounded waist would have been presumably even worse.  

She forced her attention back to the conversation.

“What brings you here, anyway?” the future Snape asked.

“I thought you knew,” his former self frowned.           

“Well, let’s say, we have an idea. But we want to be sure.”

“We’re here for the potion,” Snape declared tensely.

“Ah- What potion?” his other self raised his brows at him. Both time-travellers’ faces fell at that.

“Stop it Sev, don’t tease them,” the married Hermione smiled at her husband.

“And that out of your mouth, my dear…I’m impressed,” he mocked.  

She turned to their past selves and smiled again. “Don’t be mad with us. We don’t mean to taunt you. This is probably really hard for you, but yet so funny for us.”

“Dumbledore sent us,” Snape glared at her.

“We know,” she added kindly. “We both started to dream of his plan about a week ago.”

 

**OO**

 

The present Severus frowned at that. “I don’t ever dream, Mrs. Sn- Hermione,” he added with a sour expression. He would not address that woman by ‘his’ name if he could help it. “The Dreamless Sleep Potion sees to that.”

“Not in this time, Severus,” his future wife smiled kindly at him.

A trace of panic filled his voice as he asked: “Will I become that used to it by now that it won’t work anymore?!”

To his relief the young woman shook her head. “No, you won’t need any of your concoctions to fight your nightmares anymore.”

“What will you do to drive them back from my mind – just put your arms around me?!” He sneered nastily at her.

“Yes, Severus,“ she told him softly, “and after some time that will be enough for you.”  

He was unable to meet her gaze at that. Furious and embarrassed, he turned his head, only to find his eyes locked with those of  the younger Hermione, which was not any better in his opinion.

“Well then, I suggest, we discuss everything else in the morning and go to bed for now,” his future self declared cheerfully.

“Emm, as you’re speaking of it -  about sleeping arrangements-” the present Severus began quite awkwardly.

“What should be discussed about them? We’ll return to our bed and you two can sleep in the study,” his other self smiled at him.

“But,” Severus complained, “Shouldn’t we better say, Miss Granger and – em - your wife-”

“You mean the actual and the intended Mrs. Snape,” the his other self interjected evilly.

“Em- whatever,” he muttered uncomfortably. “They- could sleep here – in the bedroom and we in the study.”

“Oh no, no, no ..” the future Hermione cut in at that suggestion, and her husband looked at her with some amusement.

“That’s completely out of the question,” he told his stunned, younger self, “I’ll stay with my wife. And you two can arrange your sleeping places in the study however you please.”

The older Hermione smiled at them. “Don’t worry. You can start working on the potion in the morning. Take some rest now. Just Tina mustn’t know about the whole matter. She is still too little, she wouldn’t understand it. And it might complicate things I suppose, if she told anyone she had seen two sets of parents.”

 

**OO**

The younger Hermione blushed at that and nodded at ‘herself’. “Of course, it would probably scare her.”

“Probably,” her other self agreed. “She wakes up quite early in the mornings. So if you meet her, please act as if you’re us, will you?” She suddenly grinned, “Well you ‘are’ us, of course, but you know what I mean.”

Hermione nodded once more and shot a nervous glance at her Professor.

 

**OO**

 

Severus features darkened at the idea, and his future self smiled at the unwilling expression on his face. “Well then, off to the study. Do I have to lead the way?” he mocked.

“No, but-”

“Don’t complain about it,” his future self hissed into his ear as he led them next door. “You can sleep at opposite ends of the room, if you please. It’s to no use anyway – you see how things will turn out for the both of you – and I can tell you, you’ll be more than happy about it – so you had better get used to the idea.”

“I just can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Severus sneered.

“Well, try it,” his future self suggested sarcastically.

 Severus cast him another death glare at that, which just seemed to amuse his other self further.

“Oh and please close that door over there, or you might wake Tina. Her room is next door.”

“In my storeroom?!“ Severus flew out with an annoyed gasp.

“I’m sorry,” his future self smiled cheerfully, “but right now that’s not your storeroom, but _our_ nursery. We simply couldn’t resist, it’s such a nice room for her. And you know what? We’re going to change the small library next door into one, too. Now that we’ll have a second baby -”

He clearly seemed to enjoy their embarrassment. “Well, see you in the morning then. Make yourself comfortable. Blankets are over there, by the couch. There is a second bathroom next to your former storeroom, but you probably know that. Good night. Miss Granger - Severus-”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him. Hermione and Snape stared at each other in shock. Things could hardly get any worse, could they?

 

**OO**

Snape sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and rested his head in his hands.

He looked strangely vulnerable and desperate in that position and Hermione felt an odd impulse to give him comfort in some way. Reluctantly, she went over towards him and placed a hand at his upper arm.

He flinched back as if she had burned him, and glared at her.

Startled, she stepped back. “I’m sorry – about  … the storeroom, Professor …” she stuttered nervously.   

His eyes softened a bit at that and his lips switched slightly. “Well, you needn’t be sorry about that, Miss Granger,” he told her in a quite friendly voice. “It’s not you fault alone, I suppose.” 

Hermione blushed furiously at that comment.

“I know,” he smiled almost sympathetically at her, “it’s difficult to imagine for me as well. I’m sorry, Miss Granger. I’m sure you’re scared to death about that revelation. We’ll have to sort all this information out at some point, but not right now.”

In a nervous gesture he ran his hands through his hair. “I just -can’t – discuss that matter right now. Do you understand?”

He looked up at her and his dark eyes fixed hers in an almost pleading gaze. Hermione nodded timidly and croaked in a hoarse voice.

“Y-yes, it’s all right - Professor.”

“Don’t call me that-” he rasped and she flinched once again.

“W-What shall I call you instead?” she asked shyly.

“I don’t know-” he covered his eyes with his hand and rubbed his temples furiously. “I really don’t know,” he repeated, “but not ‘Professor’- I just don’t want you to call me that – it makes it all even worse ...”

“I know, what you mean Pro- er,” she trailed off, helplessly and bit her lip.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Miss Granger,” he muttered with an almost sad note in his voice.

“It’s not that I’d hate you – you know? I just, I didn’t expect – this – It’s all so terribly confusing…”

“I‘m not afraid of you,” Hermione responded quietly.

He lifted his head to look at her. There was a degree of surprise in his eyes that made her feel sad in some way. He seemed unable to believe that anyone could feel comfortable in his presence. But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she did. On their terrifying journey as well as in the awkward situation beneath the cloak later on, she had felt lots better as soon as he had held her close. She had actually felt safe and sheltered in his arms. And she had liked his nearness a lot.

“And I don’t hate you either…” she added softly.

This time, he really smiled at her. He looked all different, when he did so. He looked far younger and much more alive –  even handsome. Those harsh features were appealing in their own way. Just as the very special scent she had noticed earlier, his face seemed to express a kind of strength and willpower that affected her in a strange way. His lips – if not pressed into a thin line or sneer – looked kind of sensitive. She blushed at the thought of what she had felt when those lips had brushed along her ear, when he had whispered to her, while he had covered her eyes with his hand.     

Even his voice was not as cold and spiteful as it usually was, but quite warm and friendly.

“You can sleep on the couch over there, Miss Granger, “he told her calmly. “I’ll stay in this armchair.”

Hermione smiled back at him and turned towards the large workbench at the other side of the room. Her eyes fell onto a photograph in an elegant ebony frame and widened with shock. This was certainly no help to calm her nerves at the moment.

Quickly, she drew her gaze away from the picture. She picked two plain feather quills up from the desk and transfigured them into different-coloured toothbrushes.

Once more, she risked a brief glance at the picture and her cheeks turned slightly pink with embarrassment and confusion. She chuckled slightly at the thought of what her parents might think of the whole situation. Even in a mess like this, she did not forget about her teeth.

Snape, who only noticed the slight movement of her shoulders, but could not see what she was doing, rose from his seat and crossed the room in a hurry.

“Miss Granger?” he asked concerned, “is everything all right?” He sneered at his own comment, she could hear it in the way he was speaking. “Well it most obviously isn’t, but – what I meant to say was -”

His voice softened. “You aren’t crying, are you?” he placed a comforting hand at her shoulder. His touch was warm and soft and – she gasped for breath - welcomed. “Miss Granger?” he asked carefully and started to stroke her back in an almost timid movement.

And then, even more softly: “Hermione. Don’t cry- please – don’t cry …”

She turned around to look at him. His eyes were dark, soft and – gentle.

“I’m not crying,” she told him softly, “I’m just ..” she held up the toothbrushes and for the first time in her life, she heard him laugh without a trace of sarcasm.  

 

OO

 

Hermione pretended to be asleep, but watched Snape staring into the flames, lost to his thoughts. He placed his hands at the dark oak beam that ran around the fireplace. She could see his knuckles whiten at the firmness of his grip. He scowled at the various photographs that were placed there. With a grave sigh, he let go of the beam and picked one of the pictures up. Thoughtfully, he stared at the photograph in the small silver frame, before he put it back into its place.

He passed the room with careful, silent steps, returned to his armchair, sat down, ran his hands through his hair and got up again. He risked a brief glance in Hermione’s direction, walked over towards the workbench, shoved a few things like quills and ink bottles around, picked up the ebony framed picture she had spotted there earlier and frowned again.

She knew very well, what that photograph showed. It was the one she had seen when she had transfigured the quills earlier, and she could not blame him for being confused.

It showed them on their wedding day and as it had been taken with a wizard’s camera, it was moving. The little images of themselves were beaming with happiness and they were kissing all the time. She had also noticed how often he placed a hand at her belly. There was not any visible sign of pregnancy, but she was almost sure, ‘Mrs Snape’ had been already expecting at their wedding. Countless little gestures and tender glances had made her quite sure about it.

For all she could tell, Snape must have noticed them as well. He stared at the picture for some minutes with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he put it back in its place, turned towards the fireplace and sent a quite insecure glance in her direction.

She could not help but shiver slightly. The dungeons were not the warmest place in the castle and she had only a single blanket to keep her warm. 

When Snape suddenly stepped closer, she pinched her eyes shut. But he had not noticed her watching him. Surprised, she felt him placing his own blanket around her. When she dared to glance up at him from under lowered lashes, she saw a look of unfamiliar tenderness on his normally hard features. He reached out to brush a ringlet behind her ear that tickled her face at every breath she took, but stopped in mid-movement. He flexed his fingers in an awkward gesture as if not daring to touch her. For whatever reason that might be. She remembered very well, how his warm fingertips had brushed softly across her skin earlier. Her throat got all tight at the memory of it.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he drew his hand back, his dark eyes never leaving her face. He looked at her just the way the future Snape had looked at his wife. So caring, so tender, so – loving. Right now, she could not imagine she might find that look in his eyes when he supposed her to be awake, but it was certainly something worth wishing for.

  **OO**

Severus Snape watched the sleeping form of Hermione Granger on the couch. She was curled up on her left side, her face was turned towards the room and her eyes were shut. Her shoulders rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Now that he knew her to be asleep, there was no need to mask his features. He simply studied her face and watched her sleeping. The shivering had stopped, when he had placed that second blanket around her body.

He did not care that he had no cover for himself anymore. He did not mind the cold. He was quite used to it – he even appreciated it. It helped him to keep his thoughts clear. He would not sleep tonight, anyway. Briefly, he considered to get himself some Dreamless Sleep Potion, but hesitated. He needed to sort out so many thoughts – he could just as well start with it tonight. The sooner he knew how to deal with the situation, the sooner he would feel better about it. And all the better for her … He was terribly confused and certainly, she did not feel any better.

This was all just so odd.   

He had carefully looked at every single picture in the room and all of them showed Hermione  and himself, or the little girl they would obviously have very soon. Like every picture in the wizarding world, the little images were moving and he had watched themselves kissing countless times.

One was their wedding photograph. Both of them were dressed in traditional wizarding wedding robes, their eyes filled with love and mirth as they smiled at each other. His hands were touching her belly strikingly often with brief, casual, but yet so meaningful little caresses.

Another photo showed him in front of one of the Christmas trees in the Great Hall, placing his arms around Hermione in a beautiful, dark-blue woollen robe. When the images of themselves had noticed him looking at them, Hermione had turned around in her husband’s arms to look at him from out of the picture and he had gasped at the sight of her rounded waist. She was most obviously ‘very’ pregnant in that picture and he had watched in shock, how his future self had closed both of his arms around her from behind and kissed her softly on the cheek. Beaming, she had tilted her head back and cupped his face with one of her hands. Once more, they had kissed lovingly. He had spotted some of his colleagues in he background. Liana Sprout, who had been whispering behind her hand at Minerva McGonagall, who had frowned accusingly at him as soon as she had noticed him looking at the picture. And Hagrid, who had winked at him with a broad grin on his face. Finally, Albus had drawn everyone’s attention back into the scene in picture and they had continued to celebrate the Christmas feast. 

In another picture he was holding a bundle of fluffy, pink blankets with their newborn daughter in his arms, an expression of awe on his features. When he had noticed his younger self watching him, he had smiled at him and had turned that way, so Severus would get a short glimpse of the tiny, pink faced baby in the bundle of blankets. Her little head was already covered in short, jet-black curls. 

There were several photos of Serpentina as a baby and many others that showed her growing up into the little girl she was now.

He had spotted one, in which he was whirling her around in his arms and lifting high above his head, in the soft light of a late summer afternoon somewhere in the grounds. She could not be older than two years in that picture and was giggling and shrieking with fun.

One photo showed her riding on his shoulders on a sunny harvest day. He clearly recognised the bright orange and red leaves and the banks of the lake in the background. Suddenly the little girl had clawed both of her hands into his hair, and his expression had changed from amusement to a kind of helpless and quite painful smile, while he had desperately tried to stop her from tugging at his hair. Finally, Hermione had entered the picture from somewhere on the right and had and helped him to free his hair from their little daughter’s grip. She had pulled Tina down into her arms and kissed him softly on the cheek, and he had smiled at her with an expression of utmost love and adoration. 

In another picture, Tina and Hermione were splashing each other merrily with water at the lake on a bright summer’s day. His eyes had widened with surprise, when he had noticed Hermione, who was dressed in something that looked strikingly like underwear in his opinion. He had heard of those. This must be what muggles wore for swimming and sunbathing, he supposed. For all he knew, it was called a bikini, but he might be mistaken about that. Hers was of bright red cloth, and left very little to the imagination. Her skin had a slight, golden tan.

He had felt his throat get dry at the sight of her beautiful slender body and it’s soft tempting curves in just the right places. She looked breathtakingly, unbelievably beautiful and – he had hated to admit it, but it was true – very seductive. The mere thought of touching her soft, slightly sun-tanned skin drove him crazy.

This was certainly more than strange.     

He returned his gaze to the sleeping young woman on the couch. She was so young, so beautiful, so smart and kind … How on earth could she ever love someone like him? He frowned slightly.

There was an odd longing in his chest to just lift those covers and stretch himself out on the couch next to her. His heart started to beat in an excited rhythm at the mere idea of holding her close the whole night long. It was very tempting to simply slip under those covers, next to her sleeping form, and take her into his arms. There was certainly enough room for both of them and if he crept close to her, it might be quite comfortable and pleasurable.

His lips twitched in amusement imagining what her reaction might be, if she woke up and found herself wrapped in his arms. It was most likely no good idea.

But still – he had liked holding her so much when they had been hiding beneath the cloak. He smiled at the memory of how good it had felt to feel her close to him.

Would she snuggle herself into his embrace, like she had done earlier? And would her comforting nearness really be enough to keep the horrible nightmares away? The future Hermione’s voice echoed through his mind. _‘Yes, Severus – after some time that will be enough for you …’_

**OO**

Hermione did not dare to move at all. Her every nerve seemed to lay in waiting. He was so very close to her. His hand still hung in mid-movement above her cheek. She still wondered if he would actually touch her face or not, when he suddenly leaned forward.

Even through the thick material of two blankets she felt the softness of his touch. “Good night Hermione,” he whispered barely audibly and traced his hand in an almost shy, caressing movement across her upper arm. She could not help but whimper in surprise. Hastily, he drew back and fled towards the armchair at the fireplace.

She watched him stare into the fading flames for what seemed to be hours. Finally, he leaned back into the depths of his armchair and she could not see his face anymore. But she could still see his hands resting at the sides of the armchair. The only noise was the soft cracking of the glowing logs every now and then. The soft, comforting sound and the warmth of the two blankets finally lulled her to sleep.

 OO

 

The room was dark when she woke again. 

Or at least almost dark. Nothing but red glowing ashes were left in the hearth. There was some strange noise across the room, rushed, uneven breathing and some low, incoherent muttering. After a few moments, her eyes got used to the dim light and she could recognise the furniture as vague, dark shapes.

The strange noise seemed to come from out of one of the armchairs at the still slightly glowing fireplace. It must be Snape, having a nightmare, she concluded – Severus –  She felt a strange clinging at her heart at the thought. Wrapping herself in one of the blankets, she stepped over to his armchair to check on him.

He looked so different, when he was asleep. Younger and strangely vulnerable. She wondered what kind of nightmare might be haunting him. He tossed and turned his head restlessly, his hair was all dishevelled around his face, while various emotions slipped across his face. It caused the thin, steep lines between his eyes to deepen. His breathing was ragged and uneven.

When she leaned forward, she could see his eyes were rapidly moving behind his lids. So he was definitely dreaming. His hands flexed aimlessly around the sides of his armchair.

“No,” she heard him mutter frantically, “no, don’t … you mustn’t …” The words were barely audible. Then suddenly louder and clearer: “Hermione ...”

She gasped as she supposed him to be awake now. She was just about to mutter an excuse, when she noticed his eyes were still closed. He just turned his head away, then back to her again. His eyes were still moving restlessly beneath closed lids. “Hermione,” he muttered once more. This time there was a sad, almost desperate note in his voice. “Not her – please-”

Hermione felt a shiver rip through her. He was actually dreaming of her. And for some reason, he seemed to be badly worried about her.

Tightness started to form inside of her throat and she suddenly felt a strange tenderness for him. But this time, it was completely different from the longing she had felt earlier that day.

All she wanted right now, was to reach out and touch his cheek, to smooth the tousled strands of black hair down with gentle hands. She wanted to ease the worry he seemed to feel for some reason.

Hesitatingly, she reached out to cup his face in her hand, but did not dare to actually touch him. She watched him silently for some more seconds, before a slight smile crossed her lips. He must be freezing in the cold room without a blanket. Maybe, there was at least one thing she could do for him.

Carefully avoiding every noise, she took the thick woollen blanket down from her shoulders and stepped closer to him. In a gentle movement, she placed the cover around his body and felt him freeze at the touch. She could not resist to run both of her hands softly down his upper arms to take the haunted look away from his face. It had been right to give him her blanket. Even through the material of his robes, his arms felt cold.

But only the very next second, she gasped with shock and pain. His hands shot up and caught her wrists in a bruising grip. She heard a sharp intake of breath and his eyes flew open in alarm. With another yell of pain, she tried to escape, but could not wrestle herself from his grip.

Shaking with fright, she stared helplessly into the furious black eyes of Severus Snape.

Before she could make as much as single sound, she was dragged forward. In a careless movement, she was whirled around and slammed into the armchair, while Snape jumped to his feet and blocked her way. Both of her wrists were clasped by his right hand now, while his left pressed his wand to her throat.

“Don’t move!” he hissed and she did not dare to give as much as a whimper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uops, bad move... Hogwarts’ motto should be changed to: ‘Never try to tuck in a sleeping DE,’, I suppose.
> 
> Smiles, Serpentina


	7. Of worries and hesitation

Hermione’s heart raced with fear. Snape’s grip around her wrists was bruising and the tip of his wand was pressed painfully to her throat.

She could hardly breathe this way and could not understand his reaction at all. He seemed to have been quite nice to her the last evening. He had even placed his own blanket around her. And now – this unexpected, excessive reaction to her slight touch.

Certainly, she did not have any right to intrude his privacy like that, but she had only meant well. He need not be this offended.

Helplessly she stared up into his face. From all she could tell in the dim light, his eyes were a blazing black fire, which would have caused her to shrink deeper into the armchair, if she had only dared to move at all.

The very next second though, she saw his eyes widen with realisation.

“Hermione,” he gasped, “it’s you!” His voice was all hoarse, from sleep and shock, and there was an odd look on his face. A bizarre mixture of surprise, worry and disbelief. “Hermione-” He let go of her hands and lowered his wand.

This was when she started trembling. All the day’s tension broke free in a desperate sob and she curled up inside the armchair, burying her face in her hands. She barely noticed him kneeling down in front of her.

“Hermione,” he muttered worriedly.

At this another sob escaped her lips. His left hand touched her right upper arm in a hesitating, almost timid movement. Very gingerly, he started to rub her shoulder in tiny circles.

“Hermione, look at me,” he pleaded softly, his voice was barely a murmur. Disbelief and surprise caused her to slowly lift her head, but when he grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face she flinched in pain. A reaction he obviously mistook for fear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and withdrew his hands from hers, “I didn’t mean to – I – won’t harm you.”

**OO**  

She just stared at him out of frightened brown eyes, tears running silently down her cheeks.

This was not going to be easy at all. She was terribly distracted and scared. He had to do something about it. With a grave sigh, Severus pointed his wand at the armchair and she tensed once more.

“Engorgio,” he muttered to widen the seat beneath her. He was not sure if this was the right thing to do, but he had to calm her down in some way. Very carefully, so he would not distract her any further, he seated himself next to her and closed his arms around her trembling body. He picked up the blanket she had placed around him earlier and wrapped her inside.

“Now, now, it’s all right,” he muttered a little awkwardly. It was probably quite obvious that he wasn’t used to comforting anyone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - to frighten you. I’m - just not – used – to being touched while I’m asleep, that’s all. I thought you were – Never mind. I didn’t recognise you – Hermione. Do you hear me?”

She simply nodded, unable to speak.

Hesitatingly his hand came up to stroke her hair and he felt her tense in his arms at the soft touch. The very next second though, she leaned in to him. Very lightly she placed her left hand across his chest and he hardly dared to breathe at first. But when her fingers clenched into the thick material of his robes all of a sudden, as if seeking a purchase, he inhaled sharply and audibly. He felt an overwhelming urge to make her feel sheltered, to comfort her the best way possible.

He was just so very unsure of what to do. He was not used to holding frightened, crying young women in his arms. He was not used to holding any woman like this to be precise. Not in the slightest. At the very few occasions that he had experienced any intimacy with a woman there had been no room for this kind of – affection and tenderness. This was all different from everything he knew.

Following an impulse, he gingerly placed his hand above hers and pressed it softly, but withdrew it immediately when she flinched back and whimpered in pain.

This time he did not suppose it to be out of fear, though. Stunned, he looked down at her hands and inhaled a sharp breath when he discovered the reddish marks his fingers had left at her wrists. A pang of guilt hit him at that sight. He had not intended to hurt her, he had not even noticed.

Carefully so as not to distract her, he pointed his wand at her wrists and healed the injuries. The left wrist was all red and swollen and probably sprained. This must have happened when he had pushed her behind the armchair earlier. He swallowed hard at the memory of how much he had worried about her safety and how she had refused to leave him.

With a tight feeling in his chest he placed his arms around her once more, and to his surprise he felt her right arm shoved in between his back and the back of the armchair. Her left hand came up to touch his chest again. He could hardly believe it himself, but she actually returned his embrace and snuggled herself closer to him.

His heart raced with an odd mixture of joy and excitement. He did not understand her reaction at all, nor did he have a clue what his own uproar of emotion was supposed to mean, but there would be time and occasion to sort all these disturbing thoughts and feelings out in the morning.

Right now all he wanted to do was to hold and comfort her. It was a strangely wonderful experience to feel her soft, warm body snuggled against his. Very careful, not to distract her again, he wrapped the blanket around them both. He continued to mutter words of comfort to her and this time she did not complain when he took her hand in his.

**OO**  

Hermione snuggled herself closer to the man beside her. She felt him reach for her hand and could not help but sigh. His other hand was still gingerly caressing her hair. All the fright she had felt a few moments before faded into nothing and a warm feeling of comfort rose inside of her chest.

How stupid of her to touch him while he had been asleep. A man with his past had had to expect the worst. In fact, she was lucky to be still alive.

But surprising as it might be, she did not feel afraid of him. Not at all. She felt safe and sheltered. She knew, he had not meant to harm her. Neither now, nor earlier, when he had pushed her out of his future self’s reach. He had just meant to keep her safe back then and had been caught by surprise at her unexpected touch now. He had been shocked and very sorry to have hurt her. She was still stunned how carefully he had healed her injuries.

With a soft sigh, she snuggled herself a little closer to his chest and inhaled the very same scent she had noticed, when she had first stepped close to him back at Dumbledore’s office.

When they had started their troublesome, eventful journey this morning, she would not have expected to end up in his arms, but now, she could not think of any place she would rather be.  

It felt so good  to be held by him like this. So right and wonderful. Her head rose and lowered softly with his every breath and listening to the sound of his heartbeat, she finally drifted into sleep. 

**OO**

Severus knew, he would not be able to fall back asleep again that night. He just held the sleeping young woman in his arms. She was so very young, he thought - and given the recent revelations this troubled him a lot. He still could not imagine how a relationship of the kind their future selves were sharing could have developed between them - and how on earth it could have started in the first place.

How could she possibly marry someone like him, he wondered. How could she love him?

She deserved far better than him – a man who was haunted by the failures of his dark, troublesome past. A man who was twenty years older than her, and completely unable to show any emotion other than anger or dislike.

Not to mention that he was in mortal danger as a spy. How could he dare to bind any woman, but most of all an innocent, young, muggleborn girl like her to him in a situation like this? He did not even dare to think of what Voldemort and his followers might do to her if they ever found out about his betrayal.

He had been horrible to her and her friends during their years at Hogwarts. And he had even physically hurt her twice today. But despite all of this, she seemed to feel comfortable and safe with him. Her head rested peacefully at his shoulder, the rich mass of her chocolate-brown curls surrounded her shoulders and floated down her back in thick, wavy ringlets.

It was far too dark to recognise any detail, nor could he see her face, but for some reason he was sure she was smiling. Maybe he had felt the movement of her lips against the skin of his neck.

Careful not to wake her, he pulled the blanket further up to cover her shoulders and tugged it safely around her. It was strangely wonderful to hold her like this. It was pleasant and calming and seemed to put all his troubles at ease. Her every breath tickled his neck, but he did not mind this at all. In a strange way it felt very right and welcomed. With an odd feeling of comfort and satisfaction he leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes.

But lots of thoughts whirled around in his mind and kept him from sleeping. This day had been the strangest experience of his life and he had never expected to find himself in a situation like this at its end. 

OO 

The soft creaking noise of the door made him look up.

It had to be morning, he realised with surprise. The first, pale rays of light already crept through the round light-wells. In less than half an hour the room would probably be lit by sunlight.

He had to have dozed off for some time, he supposed, but he had not moved during the night. Neither had she, he noticed. Her head still rested at his shoulder and her left arm was placed across his chest. He clearly felt her other arm in his back. It was kind of uncomfortable, but he realised that he did not really care.

This was the position in which his future self found them. After a short glance in their direction his eyebrows rose in surprise and his lips curled into a mocking smile. 

“Why hello,” he sneered, “That’s some surprise. I certainly didn’t expect this, when I spoke of sleeping arrangements. Why on earth didn’t you choose the couch instead?”

Severus did not dare to move, afraid to wake Hermione, but he sent a dark scowl at his older self for that comment.

“Well, I have a favour to ask of you,” that one told him in a more serious kind of voice and he looked up in surprise.

“Would the two of you have breakfast at the Great Hall in our place?” At his younger self’s stunned look he explained. “Hermione is quite sick and I don’t want to leave her alone like this. I’ll get us some food from the kitchens instead as soon as she is feeling better.”

 

Severus was about to snap at his other self, but realised just in time that he would not want to leave the girl who was sleeping in his arms, either, if she were not well. “Well, all right,” he growled mournfully.

His future self smiled with relief at that. “Well that’s a good thing. Oh and would you take Tina with you, please? It’s far better, if she finds her ‘Mummy’ well this morning, don’t you think so?” 

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself once again. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?” he sneered sarcastically. To his horror his future self’s features lit with delight at that. “Oh well, since you’re asking – You couldn’t possibly teach my first class today, could you?”

Severus narrowed his eyes at the other man. “And for what reason should I possibly do this?” His other self just smiled at him. “Because I’m planning to speak to Albus after breakfast to find out if he knows about the potion, too. And it would just raise a lot of unnecessary questions, if I didn’t teach my classes this morning.”

“Ah, I see. And what do you plan to discuss with Albus about the matter?” Severus asked. 

“Well, first of all I want to find out, if and what he knows about your mission. In case he does know about it, it would solve a lot of problems for us.”

At Severus’ confused frown he continued: “It’s far too dangerous for the two of you to sleep in the study, where Tina can walk in any second. She’s too little, she might accidentally slip some information in the wrong place. She mustn’t know of this. It would be far better, if you stayed at Albus’ guest room instead. You could come to the study and work on the potion while we’re teaching.”

“Yes, all right,” Severus agreed after a moment of thinking. “I can definitely see the advantages of that plan.”

“Well then,” his other self smiled, “After that matter has been cleared, there’s just one thing left – Did I already mention, you need to take Tina with you, if you teach the class? No, obviously not,” he grinned at the shocked expression on the younger man’s face.

“But it’s really necessary, you see? Hagrid can’t keep her any earlier than from 11 o’clock on, today. He has a Care Of Magical Creatures class to teach right after breakfast and I don’t want Tina to be around the various beasts he supposes to be – erw – cute,” he sneered.

Severus’ mouth hung open with surprise at that.

“Don’t worry,” his older self remarked cheerfully, “she’s no trouble at all. Just let her hand out some spiders or beetles and she’ll have the fun of her life. But don’t allow her to cut or slice anything. And look out she doesn’t step too close to the hot cauldron. That’s far too dangerous,” he told his stunned, speechless younger self.

“And why doesn’t Herm- your wife - look after her?” Severus frowned after he had recovered from the first shock.

“Well I don’t know, when she’ll feel better, that’s why. She has no classes to teach this morning and could certainly need a little rest, but if she feels up to it, she will probably help your Hermione to prepare everything for the potion later on.”

“She isn’t –my – Hermione,” Severus snapped, startled.

His older self let his eyes wander across the sleeping girl in his arms. “No, of course not, I see-” he sneered. “Well, whatever. These are fresh robes and undergarments for the both of you.”

With that he placed a pile of clothes on the couch. “They should fit, I suppose. After the lesson, it’s double Potions for the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, you can leave Tina at Hagrid’s and return to the study to work on the potion. I should be back from my meeting with Albus by then.”

For the first time in his life Severus was completely and utterly speechless. No one had ever treated him like that. He would have gladly called that insufferable man an arrogant bastard, if he had not been another version of himself. So he just scowled at the other man, until that one left the room.

Severus looked down at – his - Hermione as his other self had called her. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. A slight smile played around her lips and she shifted slightly and snuggled herself closer to his chest. After what had to be several minutes he finally drew his eyes away from her face.

He still hesitated to wake her up. Once she awoke, he would have to let go of her. He was not supposed to hold her like this. And to his very shock he realized that he did not like that thought at all. With a last, regretful look at her he began to softly wake her up. 

**OO**

Hermione woke with a smile on her lips. She had just had the strangest dream ever. She had actually dreamed, she would be married to Snape in the future. She had even had a little girl with him in that dream and –

Someone – a male voice – whispered her name very softly. A gentle caress at her cheek caused her to slowly open her eyes. She blinked with surprise and closed them once more. She was definitely still asleep.

When she had opened her eyes, she found herself looking straight into the deep black ones of the man she had dreamed about. This had to be one of these strange dreams in which one woke up without really doing so.

But something felt odd about this dream – well even more odd than its content – She was not alone. There was someone next to her, whose arms held her close. And her own arms were wrapped likewise around this person.

Very slowly she opened first one, than the other eye, pinched them shut once more and opened them again. It did not help at all. His face was still there, inches apart from hers. 

There was a warm shining brightness in his black eyes and a very faint smile played around his lips. “Good morning, Hermione,” he muttered softly.

With a dizzy feeling in her head and a sensation of her stomach doing somersaults, she stared at him.

“So-o – it’s true?” she stammered confused. He did not answer, just looked at her.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” she muttered, “It hasn’t been a dream- ” 

“What’s true, Hermione?” he asked softly. His voice was barely a whisper.

“We’re married and I’m umm-” her hand reached down to touch her stomach and it was just then, it occurred to her that they were seated in an armchair.

“Why aren’t we in bed?” she frowned in confusion.

“Well, I dare say because we’re – not – married, that’s why,” he sneered but his voice had a gentle note in it that did not fit the sarcasm. 

With a shocked expression she let go of him and sat bolt upright, fully awake all of a sudden.

“Professor Snape!?” she gasped.

“I thought we were over this address, Miss Granger,” he mocked and she flinched slightly.

“We have another task to fulfil and it might be best to call one another by our first names for that.”

“What task?” she stammered, bewildered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“We are supposed to have breakfast at the Great Hall and take our –erw- the girl - with us.”

“Ohh-h, why that?”

“You – Your future self seems to be plagued by morning sickness and I – He is determined to stay and hold her hand” he sneered with a trace of nervousness in his voice.

“Oh,” Hermione breathed.

Despite his sarcastic remark, he seemed to be equally disturbed by that idea. “I, ewm, he – damn thing, - whoever - the other one - left some fresh robes for us,” he babbled.

Hermione, who saw a chance to get back at him for the embarrassment he had caused her,  rose her eyebrows. “Who?” she asked innocently.  

He glared at her. “You know who-“

“What,” she gasped in mocked surprise, “’You Know Who’ left fresh robes for us on the couch? Well one couldn’t say that wasn’t nice of him. How many other surprises does the future hold?”

His eyes narrowed into small slits at that. “Are you trying to annoy me on purpose?”  

“What would you do if I said yes to that?”

“You wouldn’t want to find out,” he warned with a low voice that made her heart race with excitement all of a sudden.

“How can you be so sure of that?” she asked softly and felt him tense next to her. He looked at her with an odd expression on his face before he got up out of the armchair.

“We had better hurry if we don’t want to be late,“ he told her and walked across the room towards the pile of clothing on the couch.

He picked up the ones that were obviously his and flinched slightly, when his eyes fell onto a dark-blue bra and matching panties amongst the fabric. With an unreadable expression he turned his head at her. “I think I’ll take a shower. Will you get her in the meantime?” 

**OO**  

When Severus returned to the study, he was greeted by the sight of a beaming little girl, who giggled at some question Hermione had asked her. “O-of course I can dress myself, Mummy. I just need help with the buttons. Don’t you know that anymore?”

Their eyes met above the little girl’s head and Hermione clenched her teeth and sent a helpless smile at him that seemed to say ‘Oops, bad question-’ 

He could not help but chuckle at that. With an amused twinkle in his eyes, he turned towards the child. “Of course she knows, Serpentina,” he smiled, “Mummy is just teasing you.”

The little girl whirled around at that. “Daddy,” she laughed and hurried towards him. After he had recovered from the first surprise he picked her up in his arms.

“Good morning, princess,” he smiled. “Did your tomcat behave well last night? I didn’t notice him to have caused any trouble.”

Tina giggled at that. “Yes, he slept all the time. Why do you call him ‘tomcat’, Daddy?”           

“Well, because he’s one, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but his name is Crookshanks.”

Once again Severus’ eyes locked with the ones of Hermione. “Indeed?” he asked with a mocking smile and set the girl down to her feet again.

Tina just giggled at that. “Of course it is.”

She then stepped back to look at them out of narrowed eyes. “You’re kind of funny this morning-”

Hermione’s head snapped up in alarm at that remark, but Severus just smiled at the little girl. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “We’re just happy, that’s why.”

“Because we’re getting the little siblthing?” she asked with a trace of jealousy.

“Yes, we’re very happy about the little sibling,” Severus told her softly and picked her up once more. “But we’re just as happy to have such a big girl, who can even dress herself alone and tame that reddish tiger over there.”

Tina just grinned at him. Hermione chose this occasion to silently slip into the bathroom. But he had already seen the slight smile that had spread across her face. 

OO 

Severus clearly felt her insecurity when they were about to enter the Great Hall, and placed a comforting hand at her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll manage,” he told her softly as he shoved her through the huge wooden door.

As soon as they had stepped into the vast room, curious glances hit them and excited little whispers passed from student to student. It was obvious that the latest news had spread throughout the school by now.

A brief side glance at Hermione told him she was just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. He heard the sharp intake of her breath and felt her posture get all tense beside him.

Without further thinking he drew his hand back from her shoulder, reached for her hand and pressed it softly. It seemed to be the natural thing to do; the panicked look in her eyes made him wish to comfort her in some way.

At the high table they were greeted by the cheerful glances of his colleagues. “Ah Hermione, Severus,” Minerva McGonagall smiled, “there you are. We were just talking about you.”

“Why doesn’t this surprise me in the slightest?” Severus muttered sarcastically as he pulled out a chair for Hermione.

She took the seat and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.  

“We’ve heard the good news, my dear,” Liana Sprout addressed her all of a sudden. “Is it true, you’re expecting again?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment at that. “I emm, yes. Yes that’s true,” she croaked out.  

“Oh yes, that’s wonderful news,” Sybil Trelawney smiled, “not that I wouldn’t have known anyway,” she added in her usual misty voice and for the first time Severus wondered if she might indeed have known of this before they themselves – their other selves – had fallen in love.

Very soon, his attention was drawn to the scene around him again as all their colleagues started to give their best wishes to them.

“And what are you thinking of your little sibling, Tina?” Madame Hooch asked the little girl in the chair next to her. Tina just shrugged and giggled. “I don’t know, Utah. Daddy says, it’ll take some time till I can play with the siblthing, but he’ll get me a dog,” she exclaimed proudly.

“A dog,” Hagrid inquired with interest. “Well that’s som’ good news, too. Ye’ll  ‘ave to tell Fang ‘bout that when ye’ com’ to visit’ us later on. That is, only if ye’re dare to com’ after the mess ye’ve created before,” he growled in mocked anger, but Tina just giggled at that.

“Of course I’ll come, Hagrid. I want to finish my ‘potion’, but I’ll assist my Daddy at his lesson first. Yesterday, I assisted him as well.”

“Yea, I’ve ‘eard of that,” he growled. “I’ve searched half of Hogwarts for ye’, after ye’ ‘disapperated’ so quickly yesterday.”

Tina’s eyes went all round at that. “Are you mad with me, Hagrid?” she asked worriedly.    “Well, a littl’,” he told her still frowning.

“Won’t you take me and Fang into the Forbidden Forest with you now?” she gasped.

“Well maybe I will, but only if ye’ promise not to run’ away again. In the forest that can becom’ really dangerous, Tina.” 

“No, I won’t, run away,” she told him seriously, “I promise.”

“All right, then ye’ may com’ with ’us nonetheless,” he smiled.

“The Forbidden Forest, Hagrid?” Hermione asked in alarm.

“I’m just patrolling the outer parts, Hermione, don’t worry,” he assured her.               

“Oh, that’s good to hear,” she breathed and leaned back in her chair.

Minerva McGonagall, who sat opposite to her, smiled at her younger ‘colleague’.

“You’re looking far better this morning,” she told her. 

Severus decided it would be best to play along this line, if he did not want to rise anyone’s suspicion.

“Yes, it’s a lot better today, isn’t it Hermione?” he smiled. Visible to everyone’s eye he placed his hand above hers on the table-cloth. “Won’t you try a peace of toast, Darling?” he asked softly.

Hermione’s head snapped up in surprise. Her gaze was greeted by the velvety blackness of his eyes. She had never expected to see so much warmth and caring in them. It made her feel all funny and slightly dizzy.

“Oh-ewrm, I,” she stammered but got a grip on herself very soon. “Yes,” she smiled, “Yes,  I think I will try. Would you pass me the jam please, S-Severus?”

“Of course, Love.“

This time she did not flinch at the endearment, but managed to give him a what she hoped was a loving smile. A jolt of electricity hit her, when his fingertips brushed along hers as he passed her the dish.

“Here you are- Hermione,” he muttered and fixed her eyes with his once more.

“T-thank you, Severus,” she breathed softly and this time the smile came out just how she intended it. 

**OO**

Severus thought his heart would skip a beat when she  looked at him that way. Completely unnecessarily since she was doing so fine, he sneaked his arm around her back and leaned towards her. To an unaffected visitor it had to look as if he were placing a little kiss on her cheek.

“Try to play along with it, or they might notice,” he whispered and nodded in return. 

“Of course, Dearest,” she muttered softly.

This time it was his turn to flinch at the unfamiliar address and when he noticed the slight smile that was playing around her lips, he was sure she had done it on purpose. For a few seconds they just stared into each other’s eyes as if seeking the answer to an unasked question therein.

Then some giggling brought them back to reality. “Well, just look at these two,” Filius Flitwick chuckled in amusement.

“When is the baby due?” Professor Sprout asked all of a sudden and both of them flinched. Once again, they looked at each other, but this time there was a matching insecurity in their eyes.

“Em we’re – er – not quite sure,” Severus told them. “Around April, or May, I suppose.”

“Well, I could easily tell you, if you would only ask me,” Sybil sniffed and attacked her egg with her spoon.

It was just then, Tina decided to explain proudly that she knew where the baby was hiding right now. “Oh it has to stay some more time in Mummy’s belly before it’s ready to come out,” she exclaimed. Severus almost choked on his toast.

Her beetle-black eyes searched for his and gave him the oddest feeling he had ever experienced. These were his eyes and his hair, straight and black, with the only exception that it wasn’t at all greasy, but soft and shining. Luckily she seemed to have inherited a lot from her mother as well. Her features looked very much like Hermione’s. She had the same nose and mouth and would probably get the same heart-shaped face once she was older. She even had the same little whirl in her right eyebrow – just her smile was his.

It took him a few seconds to recover from this revelation before he smiled at her. “Of course, that’s right Serpentina.”

She returned the smile and looked back at his colleagues again. “I’ve been in Mummy’s belly as well.” 

“Oh yes,” Poppy Pomfrey smiled, “we remember that quite well.”

Without looking at her, Severus could sense Hermione flinching at that comment, but when he finally looked at her, his smile turned out to be rather mischievous. After the first shock, she returned it in just the same way. 

It was just then that he suddenly noticed the thoughtful glances Albus and Minerva were exchanging with each other. It was certainly a good thing that his future self intended to speak to the headmaster later on.

When they parted in front of the potions classroom, he passed Hermione a piece of parchment. 

“I’ve listed the ingredients that are required to finish the potion,” he told her. “Perhaps you could look for them in the meantime?”

It was no order, she noticed, it was far more a question. She could not help but smile. It was just a minute detail, nobody else would have noticed, but it meant a lot to her. It told her that they had reached a new level in their ‘relationship’, if one could call it as such. He was not just commanding her to collect the ingredients, like he would have done only the day before. He was actually asking her. She was no longer just a student to him but – Well, actually she did not know, what exactly he saw in her right then. Neither did he, she assumed.

“Of course, I’ll see what I can find,” she agreed.

There was an odd expression in his eyes, when he returned her smile. “That would be a good thing,” he muttered and before she even noticed what he was up to, he had leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her right cheek. His lips merely touched her skin, but nonetheless a wave of heat branded through her body at the slight contact.

When they looked  at each other once again, his eyes were unusually bright and alive. They contained such a deep blackness, the pupils could hardly be identified from the irises around them, she noticed. She had never seen eyes so black before. They were deep and intense and strangely captivating and she could not look away from them.

“I’ll see you at the study later on,” he muttered before he stepped into the classroom. 

**OO**

Back at the study, Hermione told herself over and over again that he had had to fake that display of affection, but somehow she wasn’t convinced of this. No one except Tina had been around to witness the little scene.

“Well then,” do you know what ingredients we need?” her future self asked, completely unaware of her thoughts.

Hermione fumbled in the pocket of her robe and pulled out the piece of parchment. “Ow-em yes, Severus has listed all of the ingredients that are required.”

With that she passed the parchment to her other self. “Here, have a look at it yourself.”

The older Hermione let her eyes wander along the list and muttered to herself. “Ah yes, dried digitalis leaves, laburnum husks, needles of taxus baccata, that’s yew tree, isn’t it? Roots of aconitum napellus, daphne mezereum and convallaria majalis.” She frowned slightly. “What are the two of you planning to do - poison someone? All of these are pretty toxic substances. If I’m not mistaken every single one can cause some form of arrhythmic heart activity, but yes, I think we should have all of them. They are kept on the higher parts of the shelves in that closet over there, where Tina can’t reach them.”

She led the way into a small closet with high shelves that were filled with all kinds of bottles, jars and boxes. Each one was lettered in either Severus’ or her own neat handwriting.   

But when she was about to climb upon a small ladder to get some boxes down from their shelf, her younger self held her back. “Wait! You shouldn’t do this. I’ll get them.”

 

“You’re probably right. I’m getting easily dizzy these days,” she smiled. Hermione flinched at that, once again reminded of what the future held for her.

While it was no surprise to her that her future self as his wife had helped Severus to letter the receptacles, it was kind of a shock to her to discover her own handwriting at the box that contained the convallaria majalis roots. They had been put onto the shelf on February the 13’th in 1998, a date when she would be still at Hogwarts as a student for sure, as it was only a month hence the day they had started their journey back in their own time. 

**OO**

Meanwhile, Severus was teaching the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who seemed to be quite frightened by him. For all it looked like, they were not used to such a stern, ill-tempered Potions Master in the slightest.

He almost felt a little sorry for them. He supposed he would be more patient in the future, but he could not change old habits that quickly. The plan with names and seating arrangements, he had discovered in his desk, was of great help to him as he had never seen any of these students before. He had chosen a simple gnat-bite removing potion for them to brew, and had allowed Tina to hand out some nasty but harmless ingredients.

Everything worked out quite fine and although he watched each of their cauldrons carefully so he would be ready to interfere as soon as anything might get out of hand, he had some time to watch the little girl that would be his daughter some day in the near future. He still had not really accepted that fact. Like at the Great Hall earlier, when he had studied her face, he was stunned, how much she resembled Hermione. And it was not just optical similarities he noticed with a smile. Right now, she was - out of safety distance - trying to show an awkward little boy how to stir his potion properly and he was strikingly reminded of Hermione Granger, whispering information to a hopelessly clumsy Neville Longbottom. 

**OO**  

The Hermiones had already started to slice and cut the aconitum napellus roots and prepare the laburnum husks, when the younger one looked up from her work all of a sudden.

“Em, Hermione?” she addressed her older self. “May I ask you something rather personal?”

“Well, as we’re the same person, I guess you might,” the other one smiled at her. “You want to know, how I fell in love with Severus, I suppose?”

“Yes, ewm – don’t get me wrong, but I just can’t imagine – how-” 

“Don’t worry. I remember quite well, what our relationship was like before we discovered our feelings for each other.”

Hermione smiled at her with relief. “Yes. Yes – I would love to hear of that and – most of all –  how on earth I will– ewm –you did get pregnant that quickly …” she muttered awkwardly. 

“Well, the usual way – you know?” her future self teased her.

Hermione blushed furiously at the imagination of doing – that – with him, but continued nonetheless, “If I get things right, it must have happened while you were still at school?” she started.

“Oh yes, that’s right,“ her other self smiled.

Hermione hesitated, “Am I mistaken, if I suppose it wasn’t erww – exactly planned that way?”

“Oh –no, it wasn’t planned to happen,” her future self assured her. “I was completely terrified when I found out about it.” 

 

Her younger self frowned at that. “Didn’t you use any form of protection? I wouldn’t have supposed, I’d ever be so careless. And Professor Snape - I mean Severus- I would have expected, at least he might have thought of this – I mean,” she babbled nervously.

“You’re right once again,” her older self smiled, “we did take precautions. Severus brewed Contraceptive Potion for me to drink every morning. But – as you can see-” she shrugged and smiled once more.

“It didn’t work very well,” the younger Hermione concluded, thunderstruck. She had never expected to see the day when Professor Snape failed a potion.

“Oh, it would have worked for sure, but-”

“You forgot!?” Hermione blurted out, but her other self just smiled and shook her head.

“No, I didn’t forget to take it and I’m sure the potion was fine, if it wouldn’t have been for Ron-” she grinned.

“Ron!?” Hermione gasped with shock. “Serpentina is Ron’s daughter?!”

The older Hermione just laughed at her horror. “Does she look like a Weasley to you?” she mocked with an amused twinkling in her eyes. “No, she is Severus’. I’ve never slept with anyone else, but him.”

A dreamy smile played around her lips. “And she looks a lot like him, doesn’t she?”

The younger Hermione just nodded impatiently. “But then, why- What does Ron have to do with the matter?” she asked.

“It’s a long story and it’s quite funny, from today’s point of view. But back then, I didn’t think it was funny at all.”

“I can very well imagine that,“ the younger Hermione breathed faintly. “Will you tell me?”

Her older self stopped laughing at that. Her face became all serious all of a sudden. “I’m not – quite sure,” she started reluctantly. “If - I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t do anything to keep things from happening the way they did – or will – to be more precise. You know, like taking other precautions so you won’t conceive, when I did. I wouldn’t have my Tina, if you were to change this part about my past and your future. She might have been completely unexpected and might have put us through a lot of trouble, but – she’s my little girl now and I wouldn’t want to miss her for anything. Please promise me, you won’t keep her from me if I tell you how everything happened.”

The younger Hermione shifted uncomfortably at this. It was kind of worrying to make a promise like that. It meant to accept the future with all its surprising, unbelievable developments - the fact that she would marry her professor and have his children. She would not only have to sleep with him, but would have to let him get her pregnant, despite her better knowledge - and quite soon at that. She was not sure if she could make a such a promise.

“You do love him, don’t you?” she asked timidly. “Oh yes,” her older self smiled at her, “I’m madly in love with him.”

“And you’re happy?”

“Yes.”

Hermione stared at her future self for quite some time. “All right,” she finally agreed, “I promise.”

With a broad smile, the older Hermione leaned back against the desk. “Well, it all started cause I was having a hell of a headache,” she began.   

  

**A/N:** Wow, this has turned out to be a rather long chapter. I hope you liked it. 

Smiles, Serpentina


	8. What ‘happened’ in your future

Hermione held her breath. She could not wait to hear and find out.

Both women had stopped preparing the ingredients now. The older Hermione had leaned herself against the desk and looked at her curious younger self. “Well, about what happened in your future,” she smiled, “as I said, I had a very bad headache at that time – at your time to be precise,” she corrected herself with a grin. “I think I overdid my studies.”

Hermione frowned. “How can one overdo one’s studies?”

“Well, I most certainly did. I was determined to do the best at my graduation exam. I was obsessed. I knew that I needed top marks to fulfil the numerus clausus to be accepted at Stonehenge University Of  Magical Studies in October, but if you study as frantically as I did back then – and you do at the moment - it’s neither effective, nor healthy. No exam can be important enough to treat oneself like that. I would have driven myself insane if I had kept acting that way. I stayed up far too late in the mornings. I didn’t stop reading until my eyes where burning from the strain and my back was aching like mad from hours of hovering over books and long rolls of parchment, not to mention my head. Just when I found myself rereading a passage over and over again, without getting its meaning, I gave up and when I finally lay in bed, I tossed and turned and couldn’t find any sleep. My head was whizzing with the overload of information and wouldn’t allow my exhausted body the rest it needed so desperately. I felt the burning urge to jump out of bed and look something up and many times I did. Within a few weeks I was a nervous wreck. But still I didn’t stop to torture myself like that. I didn’t listen to Harry and Ron, who tried to drag me away from my work for a walk in the grounds. I skipped meals, or wolfed a little food down while learning. I was horrible-” 

A slight smile played around the older Hermione’s lips, as she sank deeper into her memories. She seemed to relive every detail.

Since she was listening to her own voice and felt exactly the way about her studies and school leaving exam as her older self described it right then, it was very easy for the younger Hermione to get completely drawn into the other one’s memories. She seemed to hear the familiar voices of friends and teachers in her head when her future self referred to what they had said or done. Even their emotions and thoughts became quite clear to her. Both women slipped away into a world that was the one’s past and the other one’s future …

 

OO

 

Hermione Granger put down her spoon and shoved the bowl away from herself with an unwilling expression on her face. Her two best friends looked at her with concern.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Harry asked and she shook her head.

“No, my head feels like splitting any second,” she muttered.

“How late did you stay up to study last night?” Ron asked with a frown.

“Just around four o’ clock,” Hermione muttered hastily, “no longer, I swear.”

Harry shook his head at that. “That’s far too late Hermione, honestly. You need to stop that.”

“Yea, that’s right,” Ron agreed with a concerned look and nodded earnestly.  

“What do you want me to do? If I can’t sleep anyway, I might just as well study,” Hermione spat. The next moment though, she covered her face in her hands and rubbed her temples furiously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just terribly exhausted and my head is killing me.”

Ron glanced at her with worry in his eyes and placed a hand at her shoulder. “Won’t you see Madame Pomfrey about it?” he suggested, but Hermione just shook her head and stared at her bowl with a mournful expression on her face.

“I’ve already asked her for some Sleeping or Headache-removing Potion, but she refused to give it to me. Those potions were far too dangerous to be handled by students, she said. She was worried I might become addicted to them. She said, she wouldn’t ever hand out those powerful concoctions to students,  just treat them while they were in the infirmary and I didn’t want to stay in there. Just think of all the time I would have lost at my studies.”

“Mmm, maybe that was what she intended,“ Ron sighed. “Honestly, Hermione, you could certainly use some rest.”

“The exams are ages away,” Harry interjected and Ron nodded appreciatively. ”That’s true. Its merely January, there’s certainly no need to make such a fuss about them now.” 

“Merely?” Hermione mocked. “It’s  the 14th already.”

“So what?” Ron shrugged with a smile. “That’s still six months to go.”

She glared at them. “I _knew_ you would look at things like that, you always did! I _knew_ you wouldn’t understand!”

At that Ron drew his hand back with a hurt expression on his face. “I only meant well,” he muttered.

“Maybe you should ask Snape for help then,” Harry suggested thoughtfully. “I’m sure he has something adequate in his store.”

“Snape!?” Ron gasped with shock and glared at his friend. “That nasty git is more likely to poison her.”

“Yes, maybe I’ll actually do that,” Hermione muttered with a shudder, “but not if I can help it. I don’t want to give him any reason to make nasty comments about me.”

 

  **˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                         O**

                                                                                                                                                                                        

The next Potions lesson though, put that decision out of her hands.

It was the last of their morning classes and Hermione felt so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open. They were brewing Will Strengthening Potion, but most of the work was already done. The potion just needed to simmer on for a while and Hermione could rest her thoughts. Not even Neville was bothering her at the moment. The constantly, lazy bubbling and silent hissing noises of twenty cauldrons and the dim atmosphere of the dungeon put her into a state of drowsiness that made it difficult to keep her eyes open. Several times she caught herself dozing off and flinched awake again the next second, but finally she lost the battle against sleepiness. Maybe, with the help of the Will Strengthening Potion that bubbled on in the cauldron beside her, she would have managed to stay awake, but unfortunately it was not ready then.

Without it, she fought a lost battle from the beginning and finally she gave in to the urge to lean back in her chair. Her lids drooped again and this time she kept them shut for just a fraction of a second too long. Every noise around seemed to drift away from her into a far away distance. Her head sank to her chest and her eyes stayed closed.

A sharp voice caused her to jerk them open again. “Miss Granger!” Snape snarled furiously, “If you could kindly please us with your attention?!”

With a jolt of surprise, she jumped in her seat and rammed her elbow into something hot and solid. Even before she was fully awake, she realised, she was in trouble. With loud clattering, her cauldron bounced to the floor.

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                            O**

                                                                                                                                                  

Severus Snape could not believe such impudence. Never, since he had been teaching, had any student dared to fall asleep in his class and he certainly had not expected her of all people to be the first.

The shocked silence around made clear that everyone else was equally stunned. Not even the Slytherins dared to make any comments at the moment. He crossed the classroom with hurried steps. The one who had caused the trouble stared at him out of frightened eyes. Pink patches appeared on her pale cheeks as she started to stammer an apology. He silenced her with a dark frown. “I won’t tolerate such behaviour in my class, Miss Granger,” he snarled.

With a swish of his wand he wiped the steaming, pale-blue puddles away from the floor and glared at her. “This is hardly the place to take a nap. If you can’t control your sleeping patterns any better, you will be banned from my lesson. Stay behind after class.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered and hung her head, when the long expected wave of sniggering finally broke free at the Slytherin side. For some reason this infuriated him even more and he silenced them with another dark scowl. “This should be a warning to everyone,” he glared. “Go back to work now. You can finish the potion along with Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger, since most of the work that has been done on it is yours, anyway.”

This time it was the Longbottom-boy’s turn to blush. Awkwardly he shoved his working materials aside and made room for the Granger-girl, who slipped silently into the seat beside him.

“You’d better stay awake this time. I expect this potion to work and it’s ten points off Gryffindor for your carelessness, Miss Granger.” With a swish of his robe Severus Snape whirled around and returned to his desk.

**˜~˜˜-**                                                                                                          **O**

                                                                                                                                                       

 

When she approached his desk at the end of the lesson, Hermione felt terribly nervous. She could only hope he would not give her detention as it would completely ruin her plans for the evening. She did not think that she could manage to spend a few hours on anything else than her studies. There was so much work to do. She had not been able to finish reading all the pages she had intended to the previous night. Her headache had seen to this.  

Maybe, if she was lucky, she would get off with a few embarrassing remarks about her failure, but her hopes were most likely pointless. For what other reason would Snape have held her back, if not to give her detention? If he had intended to lecture her, he would have done so in front of the whole class for sure. She had never had any detention, with the exception of the incident with Norbert back in her first year, and she still shuddered at the memory of the Forbidden Forest.

If McGonagall as her Head of House had given her such a horrible detention, she did not even dare to think of what Snape might set for her. He despised her as a Gryffindor and friend of Harry. She could try to prove herself to him as much as she pleased, he would never appreciate it. He called her an insufferable know-it-all instead, took house points from her for helping Neville and always made her hand out those ugly wriggling brown spiders or other nasty things.

Luckily he did not know that she levitated them out of the glass as soon as he was not looking. She would have earned detention for sure otherwise. He only waited for a reason to do so and now that she had allowed herself a failure in his presence, he would not let the opportunity pass without giving her the nastiest task she could imagine – better she got it over with. The sooner she began her work, the sooner it would be done. Carefully she cleared her throat. “Sir?”

He looked up from the paper in front of him with his trademark sneer. “Ah, it’s the sleeping beauty.”

Hermione felt herself blushing and closed her eyes in frustration. She had expected to be mocked, hadn’t she? In her back she heard the last sniggering Slytherins shuffle out of the room, then the heavy wooden door fell shut. The classroom was uncomfortable quiet all of a sudden. Snape fixed her with an intense stare and the fact that he still sat behind his desk at the podium and she was standing in front of it was not helpful to make the situation any more comfortable for her.

“Can you tell me what caused this inadequate and completely unusual behaviour from you, Miss Granger?” he asked and she flinched with surprise at the dangerously silky tone of his voice.

“Not even Mr. Longbottom failed his potion today, so why did you? I thought your studies meant more to you. I thought you were mature enough to know about the importance of the final semester and could handle the allowances of a later curfew. Have I been mistaken by that impression?”

She swallowed hard at this. “No, Professor,” she whispered awkwardly, “I’m well aware of that.” 

 

**˜~˜˜                                                                                                                                                                                          O**

 

It was obvious that she was overtired. He wondered what – or who – had kept her up the previous night. He flinched with surprise at the feeling of annoyance that hit him at the idea that it might have been for another reason than her studies for a change - he certainly should not care about that in the slightest.

For a long time he just studied her face. She was terribly pale, he noticed, and there were deep purple rings beneath her eyes. She had become quite thin, too. “Are you not well, Miss Granger?” he asked and the unexpected softness and concern in his voice caused her to lift her head and stare at him.

“No, sir, I’m fine, just a little tired. I’m sorry that I fell asleep during the lesson, it won’t happen again.”

A slight smile curled his lips. “I’d very much appreciate that, Miss Granger. I thought having to wake up one’s students was a burden specific to Professor Binns,” he sneered, “and I can assure you that it’s not the most pleasant experience.”

She looked at him as if she could not believe he was actually joking. Her whole posture was tense, her face pale and her expression nervous and hunted. He doubted that a detention would do any good in her case. She was not the type of student who neglected her work easily. There must be a reason for her strange behaviour.

Thoughtfully he got up from his chair and crossed the podium with carefully measured strides. He turned back in her direction when he reached the blackboard and continued his slow pacing.

“Is there anything troubling you?” he asked with an almost friendly tone in his voice that made her look at him with disbelief once more.

“No - well yes, sir. The exams, to be precise,” she admitted reluctantly. 

This time it was his turn to be surprised. “I wasn’t aware of that,” he frowned. “I can’t imagine – you – of all students to have difficulties passing the exams. Which subject is causing the trouble? Transfiguration? History Of Magic? Arithmancy? Certainly not Potions?”

His face darkened at the slip of that last remark. He certainly had not intended to let her know that he appreciated her skills. She on the contrary seemed to lighten up at the indirect praise. Her pale cheeks got back a ghost of colour and her eyes widened. “Oh-”

Now she even dared to break into a smile, insufferable, annoying girl that she was.

“No, there isn’t a specific subject and it’s certainly not Arithmancy I’m having any problems with,” she told him with that damn, annoyingly charming little smile. “It’s my average that I’m worried about.”

“Ah, I see.” Another slight smirk curled his lips. This fitted the idea he had of her much better. “You probably stayed up most of the previous night studying then?” he asked and she nodded once again.

“Yes, I tried to finish reading ‘Two Thousand Two Hundred And Twenty-two Tasks Of Transfiguration’”

“Oh-“ he sighed almost sympathetically at that, “I remember that specific book quite well. It kept me busy for some time, but -” another slight sneer, “I never thought I would find any other living soul who took oneself the time to work its way through that huge tome. Did Min-er- Professor McGonagall ask this of you?” he frowned.

“No, she only told us to practice the ‘Tricky Tasks’ at the end of each chapter of our textbook.”

“So you’re reading that ‘terrible T book’ for your own pleasure, then?” he asked, taken aback.

“Well, pleasure might be a little exaggeration, but yes, I’m reading it on my own initiative. I need to practice for the exams, after all.”

This time she did not even bother to stifle the short laugh that escaped her lips at his words. People did not laugh in his presence. They were either too frightened, or too full of dislike for him to do so and the harsh, cruel laughter of  the other Death Eaters, or the high-pitched, horrible one of Voldemort could not be compared to the soft, merry sound either. It left him with an odd feeling of – He frowned – Pleasure. Completely distracted by these thoughts he tensed and fell back into his usual stiff manner of speech again.

“That might be honourable of you, Miss Granger, but it’s completely unnecessary, I’m afraid. I can’t imagine Professor McGonagall to base her exam tasks on information from an advanced book like that one.” 

She seemed to be quite disappointed at that statement. “You really don’t think so?” she asked and since he did not intend to repeat himself he simply nodded.

“Ohh- that’s bad. I’ve been working on it since early December-“ she sighed.

“You should have better spent the time on reading ‘Plenty Powerful Potions’, I suppose,” he could not resist teasing her. If he was not mistaken about her, this would most likely get her nervous. The shocked expression on her face proved him right and he actually needed to hide a smile. “That was a joke, Miss Granger. Don’t you dare to fall asleep in my lesson again and tell me you started reading that book instead.” 

A relieved expression crossed her face. “Ohh- No, I won’t,” she promised.

Their eyes locked and she dared to give him a shy smile. Had he been confused by the fact that she was smiling while talking to him and laughed about one of his comments earlier, it was nothing in comparison to the effect it had on his mood to see her actually smiling – at – him, without a single word.  

“That’s a relief to hear, “ he mocked, slightly nervous, but returned to a serious tone of voice when he continued, “I know it’s already the final semester, but you should certainly get yourself some more rest, Miss Granger. You won’t be able to keep up this hard work for another half a year.”

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                          O**

                   

Hermione’s head snapped up with surprise at his words. Everyone else, even Madame Pomfrey, had just told her not to overdo things and that there was lots of time to prepare for her exams. She could hardly believe that it was Snape of all people, who seemed to understand.

“I’m aware of that. It’s just that I’m having quite a bit of a headache lately and if I can’t finish all the tasks I have set myself as a day’s work, I don’t sleep well.”

“Maybe that’s why you have that headache in the first place,” he remarked.

“Most presumably, yes,” she agreed, “Madame Pomfrey couldn’t find anything organic, but what shall I do about it?”

“Haven’t you tried a potion?”

“Not yet, no.” 

At that his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why not? Don’t get me wrong, Miss Granger. I’m certainly no one to encourage people to take a potion against every little unwellness, but in a situation like yours it is definitely appropriate.”

Hermione hesitated. “I did see Madame Pomfrey about this, but she refused to hand out Headache-removing Potion or Sleeping Potion to me. She said it was to dangerous to dispense those potions at the discretion of students and I didn’t want to stay in the infirmary.”

“Ah yes, I see,” he remarked thoughtfully, “Madame Pomfrey is a very responsible nurse. I know she’s quite strict about those matters and she’s right about it. One can get only too easily addicted to such powerful potions, especially in a situation like yours, where the matter that causes the problem lies so far ahead, but -” once again he crossed the room with a thoughtful expression on his face. “- you are quite a sensible young woman, Miss Granger,” he said and she blushed at this second unexpected praise, and the fact that he had not called her ‘girl’ or ‘student’.

As if he himself was uncomfortable with his choice of words, he frowned and added hurriedly, “A know-it –all, certainly, but nonetheless a mature one.“ The ghost of a smile curled his lips at that and for the first time she did not take the despised term as an insult, but more or less as a well-meant tease that made her smile herself.

She looked at him with astonishment, when he continued, “In your case, Miss Granger, I think an exception can be made. You will handle that potion with care, won’t you?”

She nodded, at a loss for words as he continued, “I’ll brew a Sleeping Potion for you that is especially formulated to your needs. You won’t have to take it for long. A few days will be probably long enough to break through that unhealthy circulus vitiosus of sleeplessness, headache and nervous restlessness. That should be all that is required.”

Hermione could not help but stare at him. “Th-thank you, Professor,” she stammered, taken aback. “That- That’s very kind of you.” She could tell from the way his pupils widened that he had not expected her thanks in the slightest, although his general expression remained unaffected.    

“Come to my office this evening. Around – eight ‘o clock.”

“To serve detention?” Hermione asked, a little confused. She was still preoccupied with her thoughts and quite distracted by them.

“No, to get the potion. It should be ready by then. I do not think a detention would do any good in the matter,” he sneered. “You would only stay up later tonight to catch up for the missed time – and that – is probably not the best idea.”

Hermione could only agree to this.

 

˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          O

By the time she arrived at his office that evening Hermione was hopelessly nervous. She could not tell for what exact reason, but she was. When the door was not opened at her knock, she tried a second time, louder and more determined and now a well familiar voice answered her request.

“Enter,” Snape called from somewhere not very close by.

She did.

The room was empty when she stepped inside. There was not a bit of the Potions master. “Professor?” she asked, but got no answer. She had been in Snape’s office before, but only once, in her second year, when she had taken Boomslang skin out of his storeroom to brew Polyjuice Potion. Back then, she had not taken herself the time to give her surroundings a closer look.

Now, on the contrary, she glanced around. It was not a huge room. Three torches in iron sconces at the walls spread a dim, flickering light. High shelves covered most of the walls. She shook her head in disgust at the sight of their contents. All kinds of nasty things floated inside the many glasses and huge bulging bottles in various coloured, turbid liquids.  

She recognised several pieces of plants, fungi, something pale and white that looked like a very small sponge, but probably wasn’t one. It must be a Troll-brain, she concluded. She had read about those. There was a bottle with a greyish-white clouded liquid in which an orange-white squid was floating and a number of glasses that contained potted frogs, toads and spiders.

A dark wood work-desk dominated the centre of the room. Two plain, likewise dark wood chairs in front, and a high-backed, upholstered one behind the desk completed the furnishings.

The fireplace was cold and empty and an icy chill filled the air. She shivered. This was certainty not the cosiest of rooms, but it probably was not intended to be so. It was the perfect atmosphere to make students shrink into their seats if they were called here for detention.   

To her right, quite in the back of the room, a door was ajar. Carefully she stepped closer, but hesitated to enter. Snape was most likely in there and she knew for sure that this was not the door to the storeroom, which was right opposite the entrance door and closed at the moment. What if this was his bedroom or, even worse, the bathroom?

“Professor Snape?” she called again and this time he answered.

“Miss Granger, is that you? I’m in here.”

She heard him approach the door and  the next moment it was opened. Snape stood in front of her. Tall, lean and black-robed as ever. She got a glimpse of the room behind him and noticed it was no bedroom. It was no bathroom either. For all it looked like it had to be a kind of study. She could see a large dark wooden workbench on which he was obviously preparing a potion, for it was loaded with all kind of ingredients. High bookshelves covered the walls, or at least the portion which she could see from her visible angle.

Snape stepped into the office and turned her attention away from the study. “I was counting droplets into a beaker and couldn’t interrupt that task to respond,” he explained briefly and added with a frown. “I didn’t expect you this early.”

Hermione decided better than to mention that it was bang-on eight o’clock, exactly the time he had told her and therefore hardly her fault. It was quite a surprise to see him act this civil around her anyway – almost polite – and that he had bothered to brew a potion for her in the first place. She did not want to overstrain her luck and remained silent, but he was already continuing. “The staff meeting took longer than expected; I only just returned from there. The potion isn’t quite ready yet.”

“Oh – I’m sorry to bother you then-” Hermione began and started to move towards the exit again, but Snape shook his head. “Stay. It’s all right.”

It was not an exactly unfriendly remark, but it cut her off in mid-sentence. ‘Well, so much for him being polite,’ she thought and looked at him with some confusion. If the potion was not ready as he had said, what was she to stay for?

“Take a seat,” he told her quite tensely and nodded into the direction of his work-desk. Immediately Hermione moved towards one of the plain wooden chairs, but he gestured towards his own large, high-backed and upholstered chair at the other side of the desk instead. “Over here.”

She stopped in her tracks to look at him. His dark eyes met hers for a brief second, but his expression was cold and unreadable as ever. She felt kind of uneasy at the idea to take a seat in his chair, but sat down nonetheless.

Wordlessly he strode over into his study and returned to work. He did not offer her any tea, not even a glass of water, but she had not really expected him to do so. She did not fool herself about his order to take a seat in the upholstered chair, either. He probably just wanted her to sit where he could keep an eye on her.

Likewise she could now watch him working through the open door. He stood with his profile to her at the dark wooden workbench, which was covered with a huge amount of bottles and  flasks with various coloured liquids, a couple of boxes, a lot of beakers and some vials and test tubes in a wood stand. On a pale-grey marble slicing-board she recognized some roots and a knife with a bright, sickle-shaped blade. Snape picked the blade up with his left hand, took one of the knobbly roots into his right and started to slice it with quick, well trained movements.

Hermione was impressed at how quickly and steadily he handled the sickle. It did not slip a single time, nor did he have to stop in mid-movement to place the blade at a different angle. It seemed to fly over every unevenness in the rough, wobbly skin of the tubers.

Afterwards he started to rub the sliced roots across a piece of metal that looked similar to a kitchen rasp and caught the sliced bits in another dish. Hermione was oddly reminded of her mother preparing potato pancakes. She wondered all of a sudden if Snape might be good at cooking, and could not help but grin at the idea.

Unfortunately he chose just that moment to look her direction and frowned at the sight of her amusement. “Is there anything funny, Miss Granger?” he sneered with a trace of annoyance, his eyebrows rising in surprise and she hurried to assure him that it was not. “Oh no, sir it’s nothing. I -”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” he mocked. “Maybe, you could do something useful for a change and have a look at the cauldron, while I’m collecting some ingredients at the store room.”

Her eyes wandered immediately towards the door at her back. The brief, annoyed clicking of his tongue caused her to turn her eyes back at him. “I wonder, why you are so familiar with the local conditions of my quarters, Miss Granger,” he sneered, but dropped the matter without further request.

Utterly relieved, Hermione got up from her chair and approached the workbench. When she entered the study, she was surprised how large it was.

The room continued on the left. There were no torches in here, but several candles on iron stands. The walls were of pale, yellowish sandstone and the many bookshelves were loaded with books. The furnishings were of clear line and un-presuming elegance. Besides the dark wood workbench at the right side of the room she discovered two large, high-backed armchairs in front of the huge, but empty fireplace and a monstrous old couch to her left. All of them were of dark green colour. ‘Typical,’ she thought and her lips switched into a grin. In the sitting area a large carpet covered the stone plates. It was webbed into ornaments of dark- and light-green and pale-beige colour. 

There were three further doors that led out of this room. She wondered what might be behind. To her utter surprise she discovered two large, round light wells. She had not expected to find anything like that. In her imagination the dungeons were a chilly, dark hole deep beneath the floors of Hogwarts. But obviously there was very well a connection to the world outside in these rooms. These rooms – She suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and turned her attention back to their owner.

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                          O**

Snape had watched her closely during her inspection. He did not know whether he should be annoyed or amused by her behaviour. How very Gryffindor of her to be this nosy and forget all about her surroundings like that. Gryffindor and a little stupid. Well that was hardly any surprise, was it? She seemed to be completely oblivious to his presence, while her eyes wandered along the equipment. He noticed how they widened at the sight of the many books on the shelves.

He glanced around and tried to look at this room, that was study and living room to him at the same time, with the eyes of a stranger. He wondered how it might appear to her. It was certainly not the cosy atmosphere she was used to from her oh-so-fluffy, brightly-lit, glorious tower, but it was a lot more comfortable than his office, he decided. Although it contained only few more private belongings. A chess board of black and pale-beige marble and his old graduation photo were the only things personal in here.

Not to forget the books, which dealt with all kind of topics from ‘European History Of The Muggle And Wizarding World In Thirty Volumes’, and an old copy of  ‘Encyclopaedia Britannica’; some books about Archaeology and the ancient Egypt over hardback exemplars of the most important science journals of the last two decades to literature like Voltaire, Kant and Shakespeare. There was a huge number of books and journals that dealt with Potions, of course, and a strikingly large number of books about the Dark Arts, written from both the light and the dark side’s point of view, but also others for light reading like Jules Verne, Wilhelm Bush, Agatha Christie, E. T. A. Hoffmann, Oscar Wilde, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Daniel De Foe, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Edmond Rostand’s ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’. There were books of plates of Monet, Renoir, William Turner and Caspar David Friedrich, others about muggle chemistry and medicine, `Lehninger / Nelson / Cox – Principles of Biochemistry’, ‘Schmidt / Thews –  Human Physiology’ ‘Fülgraff  / Palm – Clinical Pharmacology’ and an ‘Atlas of Human Anatomy by Frank H. Netter’. There were biographies of famous people of both, the wizarding and the muggle world. Nicolas Flamel, Nostradamus, Galilei, Leonardo Da Vinci, Richard Wagner and Sir Thomas More, to name only some of them. One section contained his old schoolbooks and high upon the last shelf lay an old, well-thumbed copy of  ‘Grimms’ Fairy Tales’.

Certainly an odd mixture and pretty twisted in his opinion. To his surprise he felt quite nervous all of a sudden. He felt oddly and uncomfortably exposed to the Granger-girl’s examination of something as private as his bookshelf and he did not like it at all. He was not used to having visitors, with the exception of Albus no one ever came down here. What was confusing him even more was the fact that her face did not express any amusement or triumph, but an almost adoring excitement at the sight of this mixture of literature. Determined not to let her see behind his guards any further, he hid behind his usual sarcasm. “Is everything to your liking, Miss Granger?” he sneered.

With satisfaction he noticed that her cheeks flushed at his comment. “Oh- I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude your privacy– I-”

Now he was definitely amused and he felt a lot of better now that he had the upper hand and was back on safe ground again. “Do you have your wand with you?” he asked and she looked at him in confusion for a few seconds.

“Oh – erw, yes, sir, yes, of course I have,” she stammered.

“Very well. I need to get some more ingredients out of the storeroom. Keep an eye on the potion while I’m away. It is supposed to simmer, but mustn’t boil,” he commanded and rushed out of the room to escape the confusing situation.  

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                          O**

“O-all right,” Hermione muttered and took her wand out. She stepped over towards the copper cauldron. With a swish of his robe, Snape bushed past her, but to her surprise he turned towards a door on the right of the one which lead into his office. The storeroom had to be connected to both, the office and the study, she concluded.

She heard him rummaging through some boxes next room, while she kept an eye on the softly simmering yellowish liquid and reduced the fire as soon as she deemed it necessary. It was a funny feeling to brew a potion for her personal use in Snape’s own cauldron.   

After a few minutes he was back with the boxes he had taken from his stores. He stepped towards the cauldron and seemed to be satisfied at what he saw. “I’ll continue,” he commanded briefly. Hermione pocketed her wand and started to move back towards the office, when he suddenly looked up at her.

“Thank you for looking after the cauldron, Miss Granger.”

At a loss for words Hermione stared at him for a few moments before a slight smile crept across her lips. “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me. You did a fine job on it,” he told her. There was something in his voice that made her turn around and look at him again, and again she noticed the trace of disbelief in his eyes as she smiled at him. He did not say a word, just looked at her. Very slowly and hesitatingly she walked back towards the workbench. “May I ask, what the potion contains?” she asked quietly.

“Well, of course you may, Miss Granger. There are some classical sleep-inducing or generally calming ingredients like, valeriana officinalis, garden balm, some catkin, primula veris, matricaria chamomilla and lavender – that’s where the essence gets its colour from,” he explained with a nod in the direction of the basket with dried lavender on the desk, “it will turn into a deep shade of lilac, once I add the powder of these.”

Hermione’s eyes followed his gaze. “Is that all?” she asked, surprised. “I can’t see what’s so dangerous about these ingredients that Madam Pomfrey refuses to give me the potion then.”

This time the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as well. “No, that’s not all, Miss Granger,” he sneered. “If you had bothered to listen to my explanations up to the end, you would have found out that there are some magical ingredients necessary as well. This potion also contains melandrium noctiflorum, solanum luteum, which tastes first bitter then sweet and gives the potion its characteristic taste. But it’s the papaver somniferum, which makes the potion so very potent and dangerous. There mustn’t be too much of it added as it’s likewise repressing the induction to breath. But you needn’t worry, I’m handling it with care.”

He took one of the test tubes out of the stand. “This substance here, is hypericum perforatum St. John’s wort. It’s not dangerous, but like the papaver somniferum it mustn’t be added as long as the concoction is still hot. Both substances would be damaged and lose their effectiveness otherwise. Hypericum perforatum isn’t a necessary ingredient to this potion, but I think it will come in handy in your case as it’s helpful to release tension and improve one’s mood.”

Hermione listened fascinated to his explanations. If she had not been so exhausted, she could have stayed all night and watched him working. He suddenly turned his head to look at her. “You aren’t allergic to any of these substances, are you?”

“No, I’m not - as far as I know.”

He didn’t look very pleased at this. “We need to be sure. I’m not willing to take that risk,” he told her. “We’ll test the potion later on.”

He send a calculating look in her direction. “You’re tired. Take a seat now, before you knock anything over by your tipsiness.” With that he pointed towards the pair of dark-green armchairs by the fireplace in which no fire was harboured.

This was not exactly flattering, but Hermione was too exhausted to complain about his lack of politeness and followed his order gratefully.  

He then picked the dried lavender plants out of the basket to his right, separated the leaves and dark lilac blossoms from their stalks and sprinkled them into a small terracotta dish. After that he began to carefully pound them with a pestle.

For a long time he worked in silence until all parts had turned into a very fine powder. Hermione felt some of the tension leave her body. Reluctantly she leaned back into the armchair and tried to relax the best she could. She had never seen Snape brewing a potion before. He handled the vials, beakers and pipettes like a piece of art. It was fascinating and strangely calming to watch him at his work. Right now, he decanted the dark-lilac essence into a couple of small vials and held one of them against the back of his hand to test the temperature.

“No,” he muttered, then turned his head to look at her. “The liquid is still too hot to finish the potion yet. We’ll have to wait for a couple of minutes.”

At a loss for an answer, Hermione just shifted her position back to the edge of her seat and nodded.

Snape watched her. He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms in front of his chest. It made her feel horribly clumsy and uncomfortable. After what seemed to be several minutes, he finally spoke. His voice was soft, but not in the silky way, he used it as a threat. “You should sleep well this night, Miss Granger, you’ll see. This potion will be able to keep the worries away. If you apportion your studies more carefully from now on, you should be back to normal within a few days.”

Once again he tested the temperature. With a slight nod he put it back into the stand beside the others. “Yes, it should be all right by now,” he muttered and turned his head to look at her. “I’ll add the two final ingredients now.”

Once again Hermione watched him with fascination. He picked up a pipette and counted the droplets of both essences carefully into the row of test tubes. Afterwards he corked each of them and placed them into a small leather bag, which he carefully closed with a band. Only then he looked up from his task again. With few strides he crossed the room and handed her one of the small vials. “Here. Take the first dose while you’re still here to make sure you’re not allergic. Don’t worry, you won’t fall asleep immediately. It’s no narcotic,” he mocked, “just a sleeping potion – Yet a powerful one, but it won’t start to work any earlier than half an hour and even then there will be enough time to walk back to your tower. It’s not the ‘Draught Of Living Death’ you know?”

Hermione smiled and took the vial he offered her. She regarded the deep-lilac essence for a  moment before she brought the glass to her lips and tilted her head back. Like he had said earlier, the taste was bitter at first, but turned sweet after a few seconds. She emptied the whole vial, then she leaned back into her armchair and waited. At first there was not any difference, but after some minutes she felt herself getting very relaxed and calm. She did not even feel uncomfortable under the penetrating stare of Snape, who watched her closely all the time. He had to so that he would notice the first signs of a possibly hypersensitive reaction. There was noting to worry about. He only tried to help her. She looked up and smiled at him. Even his voice did not occur frightening to her anymore, when he spoke. “Are you feeling well, Miss Granger?” he asked and she was sure she heard a trace of concern in his voice.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, Professor,” she smiled.

He frowned. “You’re not feeling hot or dizzy, and you’re not having any difficulties breathing, are you?” 

She shook her head and smiled once more. “No sir, I’m feeling very comfortable, relaxed and slightly warm inside and I’m getting quite tired all of a sudden, but I’m fine. I really am.”

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                                                                          O**

Well, she might be fine, but Snape was really worried all of a sudden. This potion was supposed to release tension and put her at ease with her worries and fears to give her the possibility of falling asleep. He had not meant to alter her point of view towards him, but most obviously he had. How on earth could she feel this comfortable in his presence otherwise? No one ever did – well maybe Albus, but he was not the rule - he could not see why she of all people should be an exception. Quite worried he got up from his seat and approached her armchair. He took her wrist in his hand and checked her pulse. It was strong and regularly, but not rushed. She was not gliding into a state of shock and was not feverish either. The skin of her forearm felt dry and warm yet very soft and smooth, he noticed – As quickly as it had occurred to him, he abandoned the thought. This was hardly of any importance to him. He could not see why he had noticed it in the first place.

“Well, that seems all right,” he muttered and released her wrist in haste.

Once again she looked up at him with a smile. The expression of drowsiness in her huge brown eyes told him that the potion had started to work. She would sleep well this night. He forced his lips into a thin smile and handed her the small leather bag.

“You should return to Gryffindor Tower now, Miss Granger,” he told her. “Come back in four days. I’ll have a weaker version of this potion ready by then. Even after these few days, it mustn’t be discontinued abruptly and don’t hesitate to let me know if there should be anything wrong. Miss Granger, do you hear me?”

 

OO

 

Hermione traced her fingers carefully along the splits and cracks in the old, dark wooden workbench. It was an odd feeling to know that he would have prepared a potion for her at right this desk in only three days in their own time, if it had not been for their task. Tow days from now, she corrected herself. They had already spent one night in the future.   

Thoughtfully she looked down at the little pestle she had worked with before. She picked it up and turned it in her hands. She wondered, if it might be the same one with which Severus had pounded the lavender-blossoms for her potion back in her – well –  then. She did not even know whether to think of that point in time as past or future anymore. Things would probably develop a different way now, wouldn’t they? 

It was even then that she noticed her future self watching her intensely.

“But that’s only three days from when we started at our time,” Hermione muttered.

Her older self looked at her. “Well, I wonder why you got out at September 15th then,” she smiled.

“It-It’s September now?” the younger Hermione stuttered in confusion, but smiled all of a sudden, “Oh- that’s why. I already wondered what was so strange when I went for a walk outside in the grounds yesterday.  It’s the trees. They are green.”

She suddenly frowned. “But why did we get out more than half a year ahead from the time we intended to travel to? Do you have any clue about that?”

Her older self seemed to be quite amused by this. “Well, I could imagine, you got a little arrw- distracted by Severus, when he was so close to you all of a sudden. Is that possible?”

The younger Hermione nodded and flushed bright red all of a sudden. “Erw, yes, that might be -  I – He – I was wondering about his scent. I, I liked it – a lot and – I liked the feel of his hands at my shoulders, but it made me quite nervous at the same time, too. But I didn’t know, why-” she frowned again,

“Maybe-  Yes, my hands were shaking quite a bit, when I turned the Year-Glass. Do you think that’s why it didn’t work correctly?”

“Probably,” the older Hermione agreed with another smile. “But don’t worry. The five years that potion needs to rest have past. It shouldn’t be any problem that it has rested for a few month longer, I suppose. If you had got out earlier it would have been different of course. But this way it’s fine.” 

Hermione smiled at her older self with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. “Oh that’s good, but I’m sorry, I still can’t see how everything could have happened from all you told me so far.”

The older Hermione leaned back against the desk once more. Her smile widened at the curiosity and confusion on her younger self’s face. “Well-” she started off again ...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This has turned out to be a rather long chapter once again. I would have liked to write more, but the development of their relationship needs time and is too much fun to be told in a mere summary. So I’ll give you several glances at the development of their relationship in the past, while continuing with the story in the future.
> 
> Thank you for reading this! I’m so happy you like it.
> 
> Smiles, Serpentina


	9. Something adequate

“Well,” the older Hermione began, “what else shall I say? This is how everything started.”  

Her younger self shifted her weight nervously from one foot onto the other. “And what happened next?” she asked excitedly. “Did you fall asleep in his office? Did you spend the night there?”

Her older self narrowed her eyes at that. “You mean, if I had fallen asleep, Severus would have taken advantage of it and would have dragged me into his bed, don’t you?” she asked with a frown.

Hermione just blushed. “Well I just thought, I thought – No-” she mumbled awkwardly, “not really-”

Slowly the furious gleaming fire in the older Hermione’s eyes died away. “You may not like him – yet,” she told her embarrassed younger self. “You may think he is mean, cruel and cold hearted, but I can assure you, you’re completely wrong. He would never ever do such a thing! You can’t even imagine how much work it took me to seduce him.”

Hermione could hardly believe her ears. “You? – Seduced? - Him?!” she croaked out. In complete shock.

At this her older self’s lips twitched with amusement. “Well not right there and then of course - but later on, when we got to know each other better – I fell in love with him and - yes, I did push things - then. But I can tell you, it wasn’t easy at all.”

The younger Hermione’s eyes were full of confusion and curiosity.

“Severus is a man with a very dark and troubled past,” her older self continued. “You already know that he was a Death Eater and worked as a spy for the light side afterwards. But you can’t even imagine how it affected him. What horrors he witnessed back then. He didn’t have those nightmares for no reason, you know? He didn’t consider himself worthy to be loved by anyone, let alone by an inexperienced, 18 year old girl. The worst of all was that I was still his student back then, and he couldn’t bring himself to get involved with me at first, but – luckily – I did convince him in the end,” she smiled, but turned serious again the very next moment. “Even if you can’t imagine it right now, Severus has a great sense of honour. He feels horribly guilty about his past and even if I don’t judge him I can at least understand why. He doesn’t do so for no reason. I don’t want to go into the details. He’ll tell you himself when he deems it the right time. Just remember that he was terrified of his own emotions and desires, and tried to deny them for quite some time.”

She exhaled with a soft sigh and got up from her position at the edge of the table. “Well, if we aren’t going to get our work done anyway, we can just as well sit down for a little while.”

With that she strode over towards the pair of armchairs by the fireplace, and left it to her younger self to follow.

She summoned a teapot and cups and ordered it to fix some tea by itself. “This way we can discuss things a lot better,” she smiled as she handed her younger self a cup of steaming hot Earl Grey Tea.

“You’re drinking yours without milk or sugar, right?” she asked casually and Hermione nodded, bewildered. It was just odd to see a version of herself acting this comfortably at home at Snape’s quarters. 

“Well, whatever,” her older self smiled while pouring some milk into her own cup, “I didn’t stay in the dungeons that night, but returned straight to Gryffindor Tower, where Harry and Ron were still up and waiting for me at the common room. Especially Ron was in a foul mood, as he supposed me to have served detention all that time. When I told them that Severus - I called him Professor Snape back then of course - had brewed me a Sleeping Potion instead, they were more than a little surprised. I didn’t stay up much longer, since I already felt the potion’s effect and I can tell you, I slept wonderfully that night.

 

                                         ˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                       O

 

 

There was a lot of sniggering from the Slytherins at the beginning of our next potions class, when Severus asked me if I had slept well. My fellow Gryffindors were furious, and gossiped about him after class as they supposed it to have been a mean, sarcastic remark because I had dozed off the lesson before. This was an easily understandable misinterpretation, since Severus’ face didn’t give away any hint that it wasn’t a mock question at all. But I knew it wasn’t. To my classmates’ surprise, I looked up with a smile at his comment. And when I even responded with, “Yes, very well, thank you, sir,” I could sense everyone holding their breath, cause they supposed this to be rather impudent, but Severus just answered this was good to hear and started the lesson with a slight sneer.

 

                                        ˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                                       O

 

Four days later I returned to his office like he had told me and he led me straight into his study this time …

“Come in, Miss Granger,” Snape said and led her over towards the pair of armchairs by the fireplace. “Take a seat.”

A slightly confused Hermione followed the invitation. She felt quite timid and awkward in his presence, and still was not sure what to think of his uncharacteristic kindness.

The large dark-green armchair almost swallowed her small form, when she leaned back. Snape took a seat in the opposite armchair and looked at her. The feeling of insecurity and awkwardness even increased under his intense stare.

Since she did not know what to say, Hermione lowered her eyes and let her gaze slip to the little table between them, where the marble chessboard she had noticed at her last visit, was positioned.

This time, a game seemed to be in progress. Hermione noticed that the white chessmen at Snape’s side of the board stood completely still, while the black figures in front of her were moving restlessly in their fields. They did not appear to be pleased about the disturbance. Sabre rattling and rude comments towards the opponent troops, which rested motionless in their spots, told of this. The hooves of a nervous black knight’s horse were impatiently pounding the chess board, while he scowled at the white bishop that endangered him from the left. The horse’s bridle clattered when it tilted its head aside with set-back ears and rolling eyes to snap at the bishop’s sleeve.

Hermione didn’t understand this behaviour at all. For all she knew, wizarding chessmen moved on the order of their owner, but did not wriggle or stamp on the spot on their own impulse. But the black horse seemed not to know of this. Now it even whirled around in its field with a sharp, aggressive squeaking sound and kicked its hind legs in the direction of its attacker. The large, iron clad hooves missed the bishop only by millimetres. It was obviously on the white figures to make the next move and the black ones had little patience to wait for it.

For the first time since she had noticed the chessmen, Hermione wondered who might be the commander of the foul-tempered black troops. She had not had any idea Snape might not be alone. Confused, she lifted her head and looked around.

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                  O**

Severus Snape tried his best to hide a smile while he watched the Granger-girl with amusement. As a Slytherin she would have been a hopeless case since she was completely unable to mask her emotions. Right now, her pretty heart-shaped face mirrored her every thought, and when her huge brown eyes met his after seeking his non-existent chess partner, he could easily read the unasked question in them.

He suddenly frowned at his train of thought. Did he just assume her pretty, he wondered. Well whatever, this was neither time nor place to allow himself to dwell on ideas like this.

“In case you are wondering who orders the black chessmen, no one does. There is no one around, Miss Granger.”

At her even more confused stare he continued, “You see, I only rarely have guests. In fact, Albus – the headmaster,” he corrected himself, ”is the only one I ever play chess with. So I decided to transfigure the black chessmen to act on their own. I admit this can be quite frustrating sometimes as I mostly foresee their actions. They can only act the way I would in their place, after all, and so I can quite easily discern their strategy.”

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                       O**

“Oh,” was all Hermione could say to this declaration. In some way she considered it quite sad that he had to make such an arrangement to play a simple game of chess. He must be quite lonely, she supposed. She had never wasted any thought on his private life so far. She had never thought of him as a real person who had a life apart from the potions classroom.  She had not seen anything else in him than the loathed and feared professor he was; but now, in his private study, and given the kindness he showed towards her, he suddenly appeared much more human to her. She wondered what he might do on a long dark winter’s eve, on a grey rainy weekend, or during the holidays. She somehow doubted that he would seek out company. He probably would –

Another furious sound from the black horse put her thoughts at an end. 

With an annoyed clicking of his tongue, Snape pointed his wand in the direction of the troublemakers and muttered a spell. Immediately, the restless black chessmen froze dead in their spots. They stood just as still as their white opponents now. The black horse remained in an impressive movement of raising itself onto its hind legs, its neck furiously twisted to snap at the white bishop again.

Hermione supposed that fighting these chessmen was probably no fun at all; since Snape had transfigured them to act on their own, he had most obviously passed a lot of his character into them.

Snape, who had followed her gaze, forced his lips into a thin smile. “I’m trying to triumph above my ‘darker side’, one could say,” he mocked, but a certain tone in his voice told her that he was not entirely joking.

Insecurely she lifted her head to look at him. “And who usually wins, sir?” she asked.

He looked at her for some seconds, his dark eyes glittering, before he answered. “Well, mostly the ‘light side’, fortunately, though not always. But you’re not here to talk about my chessboard, Miss Granger, are you?”

“No, of course not, sir,” she straightened her shoulders. “I’m here to tell you about my condition, as per instructions.”

“And what is it like, Miss Granger? Are you feeling better? he asked without any trace of sarcasm this time.

“Yes, lots better,” she assured him, still unable to relax in his presence. 

“You are not having trouble sleeping anymore?” 

“No, I’m sleeping well now.”

An expression of satisfaction crossed his face for a split second. “That’s good,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “We can reduce the dose of the papaver somniferum then. I would have only very unwillingly dosed you with the same amount again.”

“And how is your headache?” he asked, looking up at her again.

This time she hesitated. “Well, it’s lots better, too, sir.”

“Better, but not gone?” he asked thoughtfully.

She silently shook her head, nervously aware of his dark eyes resting on her face, taking in every little detail.

“How much did you study these last few days?”

“Oh, not half as much as before. I rarely did any more than my homework and some light reading in the evenings.”

 

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                           O**

Severus frowned slightly at that declaration.

What she called light reading was probably still more than what most of her fellow students got done in a week, he suspected.

He had no idea why she was so frantic with her studies, almost obsessed. Certainly, she had always been eager to increase her knowledge, and he had secretly admired her for the determination with which she handled the tasks she set herself; but this was no good at all. Maybe he could talk some sense into her.

“Well, I assume that part of your problem is caused by the uncomfortable way you are hovering above your books for several hours a day. It causes the muscles of your neck and shoulders to get all tense and rigid and can easily lead to a headache. There are, of course, spells that are supposed to deal with the problem, but they do not work very well. I think I know of something which will work to much better effect.”

Her head snapped up, surprised by the unexpected softness in his voice, and with a slight smile he continued: “I’ll be right back.”

With that he rose from his seat and disappeared into his storeroom, leaving Hermione wondering about his comment.

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                            O**

After only a minute he returned, a small bottle with an orange-reddish, shimmering, oily liquid in his hand. “This is a relaxing massage oil,” he explained. “It consists of a couple of magical plants and if regularly rubbed down into the skin of neck and shoulders it will have a much better effect than any charm.”

Hermione stared at him, at a loss for words. This was not what she had expected at all. Not only was she completely surprised at his kindness, she also wondered how on earth she should manage to rub that potion into her neck and shoulders without troubling her already-hurting muscles even more. She might be able to reach the aching parts, but it could hardly be relaxing if she twisted herself like that. 

Once again Snape seemed to have read her thoughts. “I’m sure you will find someone to assist you with this, Miss Granger,” he sneered.

Oblivious to her blushing he continued: “It might be honourable of you to work so far ahead to prepare for the exams, but you certainly should at least try to relax some more. I know it is hard under the pressure of the upcoming finals, but it _is_ important, Miss Granger. You will not be able to keep up that pace for another half a year.”

Hermione, who did not really know what to say in response, sent a doubtful look in his direction. Snape, noticing her insecurity, leaned back in his seat, with another slight smile.

“What are you this nervous for anyway?” he asked carefully. “You have been top of your year, ever since you started at Hogwarts, why would _you_ be worrying about your finals?”

“I’m not worrying about failing them, sir,” Hermione started to explain, but he interrupted her with an impatient wave of his hand. “Yes, yes I know, you already told me so. It is the average you are concerned about. But honestly, what is there to worry for, I ask you? What other than an A could your grade be, Miss Granger?”

Her cheeks flushed at the praise.

“I hope to be accepted at Stonehenge, sir, and its entrance examination is said to be really hard to pass. Besides that I’m also well aware of my muggle inheritance and the fact that I won’t be able to provide any references from a graduate.”

 

**˜~˜˜-                                                                                                                       O**

For the first time, he looked at her unable to mask his complete and utter surprise. But then, on the other hand, it probably was not that much of a surprise, was it? Stonehenge University of Magic was a very old, traditional institute, internationally famous for its high standards in all its faculties.

And Hermione Granger would hardly go for anything less than the best education she could get, would she?

And she was right. Stonehenge only very rarely accepted halfbloods or muggleborns as their magical abilities were not considered strong enough to live up to the institute’s high demands. The terms of admission were very hard. Only those students who graduated with top marks were allowed to participate in the entrance examination at all, and even then they could not be sure of consent. If the results were not completely satisfactory, the students could still hope for acceptance if their application was endorsed by a Stonehenge graduate.  

Since these references were mostly given by a relative or friend of the family, a muggleborn had hardly ever a chance to get access to the institute. Not very fair, quite uppish even, but simply the way it was handled.

“Well, I highly doubt this will be necessary in your case Miss Granger, but I can assure you that I shall gladly give you a positive statement should there be the need for it,” Severus exclaimed.

 

**OO**

 

Hermione looked flabbergasted at her other self. “I can’t believe he actually offered that,” she gasped. “Did he really give you a reference!?”

The older Hermione shook her head. “No,” she exclaimed, smiling. “He couldn’t do so when we got involved with each other, of course. We knew there would be enough embarrassing questions and ugly gossip around us when our relationship was revealed after my graduation, and the last thing we wanted to risk was a discussion about Severus favouring me for personal reasons. But then, it wasn’t really necessary after all. I passed my finals with an A+ average and got a really satisfying result at the Stonehenge entrance examination as well. So there wasn’t the need to bring anyone’s reference. You see, there’s nothing to worry about. But you certainly shouldn’t get sloppy and start to neglect your work now,” she grinned.

Hermione released her breath. “Ha - as if - I won’t, don’t worry. But you can’t even imagine how glad I am to hear about this!”

The other Hermione smiled. “I can, believe me, I can. I remember quite well what it was like to prepare for those N.E.W.T.s How are you feeling right now, anyway? Don’t you have any trouble sleeping?”

“Surprisingly enough not, no,” the younger Hermione responded. “I’ve been so preoccupied with the task Dumbledore was going to send us on that I hardly wasted any thoughts at my finals the previous week. My sleep was quite troubled, yes, but this was mostly because of the nervousness that came along with the upcoming task. And since we’ve been here in this time – well-” she blushed. I did sleep quite well last night, in fact.”

“Oh yes,” the other Hermione smiled. “I heard of that.”

At her younger self’s furious blushing she asked: “How is your head doing then? Does it still hurt?”

Hermione just nodded, still confused by the other woman’s knowledge of her well-being.

At that her older self’s face lit up. “Oh, just wait, I definitely know of a way to get rid of that.”

 

**OO**

 

After the sunny warmth outside, it was pleasantly cool in the dungeons. Severus had just delivered Tina at Hagrid’s, and was now on his way back to his study, but his thoughts were still preoccupied with the little girl. All the way down towards the half-giant’s hut she had told him happily about the ‘potion’ she was going to continue today, and of the thrilling prospect to accompany Hagrid and Fang into the Forbidden Forest afterwards.

She had not been a tad afraid of him, he had noticed in wonder. Given the way his students cringed as soon as he just looked in their direction, it had completely and utterly stunned him, when the little girl had slipped her hand in his, while merrily chatting about the nice Potions lesson ‘they’ had just held.

Like his older self had advised him, he had allowed her to hand out some of the nastiest ingredients the Gnat-Bite-Removing Essence required.

Her eyes had sparkled with mirth as she had handed out the naked red slugs whose water-clear slime was supposed to have a calming effect on the itching. Her eyes – his eyes – deep and black, looking at him out of the face of Hermione Granger. 

It was certainly time to get back on safe ground again.

But when he finally entered the study he hardly believed his eyes. Not only had the two women not finished half of the work he had expected, they were even sitting happily chatting with a cup of tea.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone adequate … Why not ask Severus?” the older Hermione smiled as she passed her younger self a little potions bottle, with bright orange-reddish shimmering oily contents.

Severus frowned at that. If anyone was handing out a potion it should be him, shouldn’t it? He was preparing to ask what all this was about, when the older Hermione suddenly looked up from her cup and noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Severus, it’s you,” she smiled. “We’re just having a little break. Do you care for a cup of tea, Dear?”

“No, certainly not,” he snapped spitefully, but she just laughed at his anger.

“Oh,” she coughed with a grin, “it’s you. Excuse me, I’m terribly sorry, ‘sir’.”

He could hardly suppress a sigh of defeat. The nerve of that woman annoyed him. How could she always act the way that made him feel like a complete fool - maybe it was because of the embarrassing kiss he had shared with her in the corridor the day before. How could she be so much trouble, while his own time’s Hermione was so kind and friendly?

As soon as she spotted him, she immediately jumped to her feet looking quite embarrassed, almost guilty.

His frown deepened at that. This was not right at all. She certainly had no reason to feel guilty, she had every right to take a little rest after all she had been through this past two days.

Swallowing his anger at the older Hermione, he bestowed an encouraging smile on the younger one. “It is quite all right,” he told her. “I am sure we will catch up with the delay easily, if we are working all three together now.”

The surprised, but grateful little smile she cast him, assured him that he had once again found the right words to comfort her; and for reasons he did not want to examine, this left him surprisingly pleased.

A couple of minutes later, his older self joined them. “How is the progress?” he asked, and his younger self sprang into action.

“We are still preparing the ingredients for the next working steps, but we are not completely done yet.” He sent a dark scowl towards the older Hermione, who did not seem to be affected by this in the slightest.

“We took a little break before he joined us,” the older Hermione filled her husband in, nodding in the younger Severus’ direction with an amused smile. “But for some reason it seemed to bother him.”

The older Severus’ brows rose at that. “Why so? A short rest could hardly do any harm. And you certainly have every right to take things slow, Love.” He sent an almost accusing glance in his younger self’s direction.

Severus ground his teeth in silence. The sympathetic smile he got from his own time’s Hermione even increased his foul mood. With a dark expression on his face, his lips pressed into a thin line, he focused on his task again.

 

OO

 

For some time all four of them were working in silence, each preparing some different ingredients. Then, suddenly, the older Hermione flinched with a gasp of pain. The knife she had been holding clattered to the floor.

Severus and Hermione just turned their heads in surprise, but the older Severus was at her side within a second. “Hermione,” he asked worriedly, “what’s the matter?”

“Oh damn,” she mumbled, with her finger in her mouth, ”I slipped with the knife and cut my finger. It’s not too bad, Severus,” she added at the concerned look on his face.

“Let me see the cut, nonetheless,” he insisted. “I want to make sure it’s all right.” He carefully took her hand in his and turned it to examine the wound.

It was not bad, the younger Severus noticed. It was hardly even bleeding. Just a short cut at the tip of her left index finger. There was certainly no need to make such a fuss about it.

Her husband was all concerned about her, though. He healed the little cut and gently kissed her fingertip, before he released her hand again. “There, Dearest, it’s all right again,” he muttered. The future Hermione touched his cheek in a loving gesture and he wrapped both of his arms around her waist.

“Thank you Sev,” she whispered and leaned in to him, likewise encircling him with her arms; and before either of their two stunned younger selves could sort a single of their confused emotions out, their future selves were already kissing.

“Honestly,” the younger Severus sneered with a mixture of annoyance ad embarrassment, “is that really necessary?!”

Hermione just stared at the pair in total confusion. It was so strange to be in the same room with her future self anyway, but seeing her kissing the future version of Snape - Severus, she corrected herself immediately - who was standing right beside her with a displeased sneer on his face, was just too much. It made her immediately think of the disturbing, breathtaking feeling of longing, when she had found herself in his arms under the Invisibility Cloak; and remember the confused feelings that had moved her at his older self’s kiss the day before. 

Hurriedly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she tried to focus on her task again, but since her hand was trembling, she accidentally dropped the beaker she had been holding.

With a sharp splitting noise it smashed to pieces, and the ruby-red juice spilled like blood onto the floor.

She was so confused that she didn’t even consider the possibility to use magic. Hastily she kneeled down to collect the splinters and flinched with pain the very next second as one of the bits penetrated her skin.

Furious at her own stupidity, she got to her feet again and tried to pull the small bit of glass out of the pad of her thumb.

Then Severus was next to her all of a sudden. “Let me see,” he murmured. He took her hand in his and turned it over to regard the cut, just like the other Severus had examined his wife’s hand only moments before. Carefully he removed the splinter with a simple spell and healed the little wound.

Hermione could have died of embarrassment. Not only did she have to let slip the beaker due  to her clumsiness in the first place; she had also made a complete fool out of herself by the awkward way she had tried to deal with the mess. How could she forget all about being a witch? And in front of Snape of all people – Severus, she corrected herself automatically.  

How stupid of her!

Slowly and timidly she lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were soft and dark, without a trace of anger or annoyance. She even supposed to spot some amusement glittering in the black depth. Unable to draw her gaze away from his, she swallowed. There was a nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach and she was very well aware of the almost ridiculous parallel of actions. They had repeated their older selves’ activities, with the exception of the exchange of caresses and endearments of course - and it was hardly an option for them to kiss, either.

Nonetheless Severus kept hold of her hand, while she simply stared into his eyes, almost sure he was thinking the same. When he finally, almost reluctantly, released her hand, they noticed the couple across the room watching them, broad grins on their faces. 

 

OO

 

Several hours later they ascended the stairs towards Dumbledore’s office. It was afternoon already, and the huge picture-windows beside the stairs were lit by the bright light of a warm and sunny September day.

After the long hours of concentrated work, Hermione’s neck and shoulders felt even more tense and ached even worse than they had recently, and she felt in desperate need of a relaxing shower, some food, and a long walk outside in the grounds – at the lake, possibly. But given the current circumstances, all of these wishes were clouded by obvious difficulties. They had spent the day on brewing a potion to reactivate the substances they had prepared ‘five years before’. Tomorrow they would be able to start with the first essence. But for today they were done.

Hermione’s thoughts wandered off towards the things her older self had told her earlier about the developments in her future. From what she had been told so far, she still could not quite see how everything could have turned out the way it did.

She felt the weight of the little bottle her other self had handed her in the pocket of her robe, and the words of her ‘advice’ still echoed in her mind. _‘I’m sure you’ll find someone adequate …’_   she had said and winked an eye at her. As if she wanted to push things between Hermione and Severus a little.

But it was completely out of the question that she would ask ‘him’ of all people to massage her neck. What on earth should he think she was planning, if she did? And in general, how should she indulge the feeling of his hands, touching her bare skin? Even if it was only to relax the muscles of her neck and shoulders – it was – much too intimate – in her opinion. She could not handle such closeness between them yet. Of course she knew there would be much more closeness between them quite soon, but – this was not at all what she wanted to think about right now.

She would most likely tense even more at his touch, wouldn’t she? But then, she had felt so good, when he had held her in his arms the day before – and during the night –

She did not remember when was the last time she had slept so deeply, so peacefully. Even if she had been seated in an armchair, it had been more calming and comfortable than the cosiest bed. And despite the fact that he had been troubled by a nightmare before she had woken him up, he seemed to have slept very well himself.

 

 OO

                                                                      

 The headmaster greeted them in a cheerful mood. “Ah –Herm- Miss Granger, Severus, there you are. How nice, have a seat,” he smiled and pointed towards the two leather upholstered chairs in front of his desk, but shook his head before they even had the chance to follow the invitation. “No,” he muttered to himself, “No, the office is hardly the adequate place to discuss this matter.”

Looking back at them he smiled, “We should head for the living room instead. Severus, you know the way. Just go ahead and take a seat. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Certainly, Albus,” Severus agreed with a trace of confusion. He briefly wondered, what matters Albus planned to discuss. But if he thought of it, it was not really hard to guess.

When he looked at Hermione, he noticed that she was nervously biting her lip. Though she appeared not especially scared, she seemed to be very timid and looked quite pale; and once again he felt the impulse to reassure her of his presence and that everything would be all right. Very softly he placed his hand at her forearm and when she looked at him out of anxious, almost frightened eyes, he even smiled at her. “It’s this way, come-”

When they stepped into the headmaster’s living room, Fawkes watched them curiously from his perch. But once he recognized Severus, the large scarlet-red bird relaxed and continued to smoothen his feathers with his golden-shimmering beak.

For all it seemed, Severus was a frequent visitor in these rooms, and Hermione supposed that Fawkes probably knew ‘her’ as well.

His hand still resting at her forearm, Severus led her towards one of the armchairs and seated himself in the one to her right. Hermione felt slightly discomposed at the loss of the calming contact, when he withdrew his hand from her arm, but sat down nonetheless.

She knew neither what to do with her hands, which were nervously wrestling with the material of her robes; nor what to say.

She did not even look at him, afraid her eyes might display her torment of emotion if she did; but stared out of one of the huge windows, pretending to be closely contemplating the fluffy white clouds in the blue summer sky.

In fact she did not take in much of her surroundings. Once again her thoughts were captured by the things her older self had told her about the development of her relationship with Severus. So he would brew Contraceptive Potion for her to drink and they would – eww- It was still a strange, disturbing idea. She still could not fully understand and accept the prospect of ending up in bed with him at all and quite soon at that. But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that the mere idea brought back some of the strange sensations and emotions that had captivated her when they had been so close to each other beneath the Invisibility Cloak the day before. She remembered the cuddling of their future selves they had witnessed and tried to imagine the both of them in their place, but could not really follow that train of thought to its logical conclusion. 

Nervously she bit her lip. She just wondered what might go wrong, so that she would end up pregnant and how on earth they would handle the situation, when everyone found out about it.

At the very few, timid side glances she threw in his direction, she found Severus staring to the floor with a dark look on his face, as if brooding over the idea himself.

Now that they had no task to focus on, there was not a thing to say. They just waited in awkward, uncomfortable silence, for Dumbledore to return.

 

OO

 

When the old man finally entered the circular room, Hermione felt a wave of utter relief. He took a seat in the armchair opposite to her. With a smile he summoned three steaming cups of Orange Pekoe and a dish of chocolate-covered cherries, but Hermione felt too tense to touch the candy. And as for Severus, he did not even glance at it either, she noticed.       

“Well, this is a truly interesting situation you have entangled yourselves in, isn’t it?” Dumbledore began. “But it has been a surprise to all of us to find out about your er - fondness of each other, I can assure you of that.”

Turning serious once again, he continued. “I had no idea you would find yourselves in a situation like this, when I sent you on this mission. Actually, I have only known of your plan since a week ago, when Minerva and I started dreaming about it. At first we weren’t sure what to think of this, but then, you two - excuse me, your married selves - appeared and told me the same story. And back this morning, when I found you acting so awkwardly around each other at breakfast –  Don’t take his personally, my dear friend,” he threw in at Severus’ sharp intake of breath, “I know you tried your best, but you can’t say that the terms of endearment you addressed each other with rolled easily across your tongues, can you? Although I have to admit that there were some amazingly believable parts in that little role-play of yours.”

Severus’ expression darkened at that.

“It’s a good plan and it’s certainly about time we stopped Voldemort. So I really hope you’ll succeed,” Dumbledore continued seriously. “Do you think that in spite of the current circumstances, you will still be able to accomplish your task?”

At this he looked at them, and Hermione shifted uneasily in her seat. A brief side glance at Severus told her that he was not any more comfortable with the situation. Nonetheless both of them nodded at the headmaster’s question.

“It won’t affect your work?” he inquired worriedly and this time they both shook their heads. “No, Albus,” she heard Severus assure the other man, “I’m certain we will manage to work well alongside each other.”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” the headmaster smiled. “It would be best for everyone, if you could bring yourselves to accept matters as they are. I know it’s quite hard for you, but I would only very unwillingly perform a Memory-Charm on you, when it’s time for you to head back into the past.”

At their likewise shocked gasps he continued with a smile: “It won’t be necessary, will it?

You can stay in my personal guest room, since you can’t really use one of the others at this school. There’s too much danger you could be seen, while you’re definitely supposed to be elsewhere. And of course, you can’t go to the Great Hall, either. I’ve made arrangements: In general it would be best if you travelled down to the study by Floo Powder, and had your meals up here, unless you’re really sure not the cross your other selves’ way, that is. But it’s late now and I’m sure you’re both tired. If you would follow me to your chamber now?”   

The guest room was a pleasantly sunny room in colours of soft beige, lime-green and periwinkle blue.

Right opposite the door was a window-seat with a round dark-wood table inside. The mid part of the window consisted of lozenge-shaped pieces of clear glass that allowed a beautiful view of the lake and the wood-covered hills behind, but the window’s edges were ornamented in a frame of tendrils whose blossoms were strongly reminiscent of some kind of bellflowers.

Right now the fading sunlight that caught in the blue and green-coloured glass projected the floral mosaic onto the honey-coloured wooden floor and the large, beige carpet, which showed a similar pattern at its boundary.

Left of the window-seat was the bed. It was a four-poster of course, which repeated the floral pattern of green and blue at its pale-beige curtains. Though not very large, it probably held enough room for two people to sleep in, as long as they were not afraid to touch each other. Which was – not what Hermione wanted to think about right now. Uncertainly she turned her head to check the room for a second bed, which there was not.

Like everywhere else in the castle the walls were of pale sandstone. The sconces were copper, and held a couple of thick, honey-coloured candles. 

She spotted a door, to the right of the window, but it probably just led to a bathroom. Left of the entrance-door were a small fireplace of plain sandstone-blocks, a large, light-beige couch beside, and an armchair as well as a reading table in front of it. A dresser and a small desk with an ink bottle, a feather-quill and some sheets, completed the furnishings. All in all a nice room, with soothingly coloured, pleasant providing, – but Hermione did not feel calm at all at the prospect of spending the nights in here – with him.

With a crushed expression on her face, she bit her lip. Even if one of them slept on the couch, they would have to spend the night in one room again. Carefully she risked a side glance at Severus, who looked equally uncomfortable with the arrangements.

Dumbledore, who had watched them closely, handed his colleague a small leather pouch.  “The fireplace is connected to the kitchens. You can either light a real fire in its hearth, or you can conjure up a magical one that lasts only long enough to throw a small amount of this powder here into the flames, and order whatever food you wish for. It will appear  immediately on the table by the window seat. Oh and as for the sleeping arrangements, unfortunately there is no second bed, I’m afraid, but I’m sure you will find something adequate,” he said with an annoyingly cheerful tone in his voice.

With that he left them alone.

Hermione could not help but stare at the door that closed behind him. Slowly, with a trace of panic in her gaze, she turned her head to look at her companion. “Well,” Severus cleared his throat …    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wish all of you who celebrate it a Merry Christmas!!!  
> Lots of thanks for following this story. I’m happy to see so many of you are readying/enjoying it!
> 
> Most of the ingredients I mentioned, are taken from an old book about medicinal herbs and are said to have more or less calming or sleep inducting effect. The ‘magical-ones’ like melandrium noctiflorum, solanum luteum, which is indeed said to taste first bitter then sweet, I chose out of metaphorical sense, though. Derivatives of papaver somniferum as morphine, are used as a very strong pain releasing drug and have in fact the mentioned side effect of repressing the induction to breath. Hypericum perforatum is useful to improve the mood, but likewise increases the sensitiveness to sunlight. 
> 
> Smiles, Serpentina


	10. Underneath your clothes

Severus cleared his throat. “Well,” he started off again, “we already spent the last night in one room, so I am convinced we will be able to handle this again. As I see it, there is no need to worry about the sleeping arrangements – This time I will take the couch, whereas you –” his gaze wandered off towards the bed across the room, then back to her face again, “whereas you can sleep over there,” he added calmly.

He noticed her drawing in a deep breath, but could not blame her. Somehow the mere presence of a bed, and the fact that they were all alone up here and not likely to be disturbed, made the whole situation much more difficult to deal with than the previous night at the study.

For all it appeared, Hermione seemed to have similar problems handling this. Maybe it was simply because of the sight of her pressing her lips into a thin line, reminding him unpleasantly of Minerva – or perhaps he was just bothering way too much with her moods and feelings these past few days; but the tense posture with which she held herself made him wish for anything he could say or do that would make her feel better.

“It has been a hard day. Perhaps you would find a hot shower relaxing?” he suggested mildly. “You must be quite tired.”

**OO**

Once again surprised by the friendly, almost caring way he dealt with her, Hermione could not help but smile at him.

“Oh yes,” she muttered gladly, “I was just thinking the same thing. That is – if you want to use the shower as well – ” she added with an uncertain glance at him, as she trailed off. 

At the sight of the amused little smile that switched around his lips at her words, she nervously bit her tongue the very next moment. It almost sounded as if she was inviting him to use the shower along with her and her imagination was running wild at the mere idea. She already expected him to make a sarcastic remark about the matter. To her great relief, though, he did not give any comment at all.

“I – uhm, guess I’d better go then,” she stammered in a rush and started to hurry off towards the bathroom, but the soft sound of his chuckling made her stop in the doorway.

to wear afterwards?” he asked with

“Won’t you need some fresh robes an amused twinkling in his eyes.

Still confused and nervous about the strange situation, Hermione glanced around. The only place that could harbour fresh clothes, was the dresser to her left. Biting her lip she hurried back there and reached for the knob. 

**OO**

Her posture tensed the moment she opened the drawer and peered inside, and a gleaming redness crept into her cheeks.

Severus leaned forward, curious to see what had caused that reaction from her, but before he could catch as much as a single glance at the dresser’s contents, she had already grabbed a small bundle of clothing and had hastily shut the drawer again. Although he could not recognize what exactly she had taken from the drawer, he noticed that she seemed to be in even deeper confusion than before and was tempted to make a comment about it, but she was already slipping out of the room.

It appeared like a flight to him. This was certainly odd. Whatever she had seen in there must have been somewhat disturbing for her.

He forced himself to wait for a few minutes at least so he could be sure that she would not suddenly return to get anything she had forgotten, before he walked over towards the dresser. Only when he heard the sound of running water from the shower did he decide it was safe enough. Slowly and carefully he pulled the upper drawer out and peered inside.  

**OO**

The bathroom was a beautiful array of light-beige, cream-white and pale-yellow sandstone. In the middle of the room was a circle of lighter, creamy-white arenaceous rock with a large image of a starfish inside, constructed out of countless little sea-shells.

The blue and sea-green waves in the huge picture window to the left were slowly, but constantly moving and shifting and the light-white crowns of froth bubbling on top of them added nuances of soft brightness to the room. The coloured glass of this window gave the bathroom the dreamlike atmosphere of a world under the sea, and the slowly moving silhouettes of fishes and squid that drifted across the walls only enhanced this impression.

The fixtures were ivory-coloured with taps and handles of soft brass. To the right of the door was the sink, with a plain, dark wood framed mirror above and behind that a big bathtub on clawed feet. Fluffy white, sea-green and blue towels were placed in a pile on a backless dark wood bench with outward-curving armlets by the window.

At the opposite end of the room, partly hidden behind a half-round wall of light yellow sandstone, was the shower.

But what really caught Hermione’s eye were the little flasks and jars with hand-made body-care that were arranged on the stone shelf above and next to the sink. She had a fairly good idea by whom these potions had been created. In a plain glass rested a pair of toothbrushes and a tube of hand-made toothpaste. It was quite confusing to see her own belongings amongst those of Severus, especially the sight of the pair of toothbrushes, resting side by side in the glass, made her aware of a fully new level of familiarity between them.

**OO**

In the bedroom next door, Severus was examining the drawer’s contents in wonder. His gaze fell on the neatly folded clothing placed side by side. There were two types of undergarments, he noticed. On the right a pile of tight, short cotton-trousers in colours of dark-green, blue, black, anthracite and grey and a couple of likewise cotton shirts in matching colours. These must be her dresses or night-gowns and some kind of – shorts, he supposed. He just wondered that she had a liking for such dark colours, not bad in his opinion, but not quite what he had expected her to wear. But then, he knew very little of her. So maybe he should not jump to any conclusions about what she liked or disliked. The items on the left side of the drawer looked much more like he had imagined her underwear. They were –

He suddenly frowned. He had not ever imagined her underwear, had he? No, certainly not, why would he?

But still, just given the case that he ‘had’ ever thought of them, he had imagined them more plain and less –

No! He had not thought of her undergarments as plain, either. He had not thought of them at all. Well, except for this morning, when he had noticed the blue brassiere and panties set on top of the pile of clothes on the couch in the study. But that did not count, he told himself. He had been forced to notice those, so there had not been any chance to not think about them. 

Whatever, these were definitely hers. He noticed bras and matching panties of various design and colour, but of likewise classical, expensive elegance. Some with lace, unobtrusive of course, just the right amount and cut to catch and please the eye without being too importunate. Others, more plain ones, that just impressed by cut, material, or colour. A clear-white set was covered by pale images of champagne-coloured roses that bloomed as he touched them. He had never seen animated underclothes before.

There were others of smooth, shimmering dark-blue, cognac-coloured, or chocolate-brown silk. Others were held in classical colours of forest-green, shimmering silver or black and next to these, only partly covered by the other clothes, he discovered a pair of fragile black stockings with a border of lace at the sight of which Severus quickly shut the drawer.

He could very well imagine whose work this was. Her insufferable elder self had probably advised the House Elves to put this lingerie into the dresser, just to add to their embarrassment, or did she possibly even think this would lead them to – No.

Determined not to examine the matter any further he paced the room for a couple of minutes, before he gave in to his curiosity and reopened the drawer for a second glance.

With a stab of bad conscience he turned his head towards the bathroom-door, which was to his relief, still closed. The constant sound of running water assured him that it would be at least a couple of minutes until she would return.

Still struggling against his conscience, he picked up the pretty silver brassiere he had noticed earlier, to give it a closer look. It showed the shapes of a floral pattern in colours of darker silver and light-grey. The straps and clasp around the back were formed of rich silvery-grey lace in the design of flowers and leaves. Just the parts that cupped the breasts were of smooth, shimmering silk, but also these were outlined by a wide border of lace at the top. It was revealing, but covered the important parts. The material felt cool and soft under his touch and he could almost sense the feel of Hermione’s skin beneath, likewise soft, but warm in contrast to the fabric.

His throat went dry at the idea and he shifted uncomfortably at the unbidden feeling of warmth in his loins. He knew it was inappropriate to think of her as he did, but he could not help his imagination running wild at the sight of her undergarments and the knowledge that she was only next room, stark-naked in the shower. He swallowed as he imagined her pretty, slender hands running the soap-bar across her beautiful body, washing the tempting curves he had seen in the bikini-picture at the study. Her long, dishevelled hair, curling in dark, wet ringlets around her shoulders, sticking to her wet-shimmering, slightly suntanned skin.

A loud clattering in the chimney made him flinch and when he whirled around the very next second, he looked right into the soot covered face of a broadly smiling House Elf.

**OO**

Hermione tilted her head back, closing her eyes she exposed her face and tense shoulders to the soft, steady downpour of the running shower. She had turned the water as hot as she could stand it to warm and relax her tense muscles. The water vapour was enclosing her like mist from all around and blurred her vision. Nothing but the steady sound of the running water was heard. It was calming and relaxing and she was glad to have taken Severus’ advice to shower before dinner.

Severus – she could not help but think of him. It was so strange that he was so close by, right outside that door over there, while she was standing stark-naked under the running water.

Her life had certainly changed these past few days. With a sigh she picked up the white soap-bar and started to run it in firm circles across her décolleté and shoulders. The rich soapy foam felt soft on her skin and a pleasant scent of wood-flowers, honey and resin filled the air. It must be a special mixture, maybe even Severus’ work, she supposed. Severus – Relaxing more and more, she allowed her thoughts to wander towards the man next door again. He was so close by and she had not even turned the key. What if he suddenly opened the door? He would not do so, of course, but just the thought that he might…

What if he had taken her earlier remark the wrong way and decided to follow her ‘invitation’ now?  

She wondered what would happen if he just opened the door and stepped right into the room. What would she do? Would she try to cover herself, or would she – she hardly dared to confess it to herself – possibly even welcome his presence?

A warm feeling that had nothing to do with the hot water, coursed through her at that idea. What an exciting thought – that he might actually join her in the shower. She swallowed, would she really do that? And if so, how would he react? If he entered the bathroom while he knew she was in the shower he must be kind of – interested at the least. Not that he would ever do so, but it was a nice idea still –  

How might this happen, she mused as she continued to run her soapy hands down along her sides and across the soft skin around her navel.

Would he knock before he entered? Somehow this seemed almost ridiculous. He might be polite if he was not in his usual sarcastic mood, but would he actually have the consideration to knock if he planned to join her in the shower? She thought not.

How would he act around her at all? Would he be sure of himself, or hesitant? She smiled, she somehow could not picture him lingering in the doorway, looking at her with importunate puppy eyes. But he was not likely to storm into the room like a jerk either. Whatever he would do, it would not be blunt or overly provocative, nor diffident; but of an elusive, intriguing charm, that would not be easy to resist. A quite disturbing confession. But she did not want to worry about the desperate struggling of her conscience against her id-driven train of thought right now.

The longer she thought about it, the more she caught herself actually wishing for his presence.

She could hardly recognise the dark wood door across the room as she gazed through the blur of water vapour that reflected the bluish, green light of the picture window, but tried to imagine how the brass handle would be moving slightly downwards. Blinking against the water, she fixed the hand-grip. It did not move at all, of course, but she could easily imagine it would. Ever so slowly the door would open and the object of her fantasies would step into the room. A tall, lean black-robed, black-haired man amid a blur of opalescent steam in the fading sunlight that hit the bluish-green window-glass.

Yes, that was good. Smiling, Hermione allowed herself to get lost in her fantasies. 

Her imaginary Potions Master looked straight at her, his eyes a pool of liquid black fire, never losing her gaze. He did not say a word, just smiled at her stunned expression and started to slowly cross the room. In the place where the starfish was ornamented in the floor he stopped and began to tardily unbutton his robes revealing a glimpse of the likewise black fabric beneath.

Hermione swallowed. She had stopped running the soap-bar across her body and simply stared at him, unable to draw her gaze away, fascinated by this exciting development. In a fluid movement the long, wide robes that were so familiar slipped to the floor. Slightly disappointed by the way her own mind was torturing her, Hermione noticed that he was wearing several layers of clothing beneath. An antique frock coat with lots of buttons and likewise black trousers. He even had his shoes on still.

Well, he was clearly overdressed, this way it could definitely take some time. Not that she disliked the idea watching him undressing, but she was not really in the mood to put up with this right now. She was much more interested in the exciting expect to have him join her in the shower. An image which she had light-heartedly conjured up inside her head by her careless remark and could not get rid of now.

Besides that she was wondering, what he might be wearing beneath those high-buttoned, unrevealing robes. She could not really say what kind of undergarments she expected. Would he rather wear boxers or briefs? Or maybe something that suited his outer appearance? An old-fashioned union suit, possibly? Well, she could not suppress a grin at that idea. How – difficult.

She simply could not decide how she should picture him.

Well – Her nagging conscience interjected at this point, she probably should not picture him in any kind of undergarments at all – Oops, no, not like that – she flinched in alarm before her mind could catch up with that Freudian slip and tried her best to not think of a nude Severus. She definitely was not prepared for that idea!

No, she certainly had not intended to think of him without any clothes at all, she had just meant that she had better not think of him in his undergarments, whatever they might be like. It was hardly appropriate to dwell in such thoughts about her teacher, she supposed – and as much as she liked thinking of him in a different way, she could not completely block that fact from her mind. 

During all of this her dream-Severus had not managed to get out of his frock coat even. She really wished his clothing were less confining.

Barely had she thought of this, when he picked up his robe and left without a backward glance.

She grinned. Yes, a new start of the whole scene was probably best. She had been way too much distracted by the bites and piercing screams of her conscience to really enjoy her little fantasy. Maybe if she tried again –

For a couple of seconds Hermione could not focus on her little daydream again. She simply stared at the door that remained just as closed as it had been ever since she had stepped through it and tried to picture Severus walking in again. It was difficult though and she almost regretted having mentally dismissed him for being ‘over-dressed’. What a pity – she would have certainly enjoyed to put her fantasies a little further.

Then, while she carefully rubbed some likewise hand-made shampoo into her scalp, closing her eyes against the foam, her fantasy offered her a second chance and gratefully she allowed herself to take it.

Once again the imaginary Severus stepped into the room, wearing a big, wide smile on his face as if he knew how anxious she was to see him getting undressed. He started to unbutton his robes, slowly, annoyingly slowly, but when they dropped to the floor this time there were not so many hindering clothes in the way. The first thing Hermione noticed was that whatever he wore beneath was not black, but light-grey. Then she realised with approval that he wore a grey T-shirt and – she gulped – likewise grey long-johns.

Oh no – that – was definitely bad. With a sharp intake of breath and a blink of her lashes, the disturbing image disappeared and just when she was about to regretfully turn off the water,  ‘Severus the 3’rd’ entered the room.

Cautiously, not quite trusting her funny ideas anymore, Hermione watched him stepping closer, but when he removed his robes this time she was truly pleased at what she saw. This image of Severus had a much better sense of fashion. He was dressed in the same light-grey T-shirt as before, but wore a pair of dark-blue boxer-briefs now that suited him really well. His legs were well defined, with the long, slender muscles of a runner.

Yes, she definitely liked what she saw, she decided as she slowly lifted her gaze up to his face. Only then she noticed that he watched her carefully, waiting for her decision and permission to step closer. When she smiled to assure him that he was welcomed, the light-grey T-shirt quickly joined the bundle of robes on the floor. Never removing his gaze from hers, Severus stepped closer, wearing no more than his dark-blue boxer-briefs now. The light, cotton material was darkening as soon as he stepped under the running water. A pleasant, exciting sight. 

“I thought I’d accept your gracious offer and join you in the shower,” he muttered and his voice sounded so real that she was truly amazed by the intensity of her imaginative powers. It was so easy to imagine this to be no fantasy, but the truth. Even the soft, tentative touch of his fingertips felt real and made her shiver with excitement.

This time her mind meant really well with her. She did not only like his clothes, she was also pleased by the fond, careful way he treated her. It felt good. Much better than the way the smug grinning image of Severus in long-johns had. Oh – no, better not risk to call that one back by thinking of it right now.

This third idea she had constructed of Severus was lots better! He carefully brushed a few strands of her wet hair out of her face, before he cupped her cheek in his hand and looked straight into her eyes for a couple of seconds as if he wanted to reassure himself of her acceptance once again. She liked this, she liked it a lot.

Then, after she had brought up her own hand to place it above his on her cheek, he raised his other hand to her shoulder blade and drew her a little closer to him. His eyes were so intense, so much alive, his every touch an exiting, tender caress.

“Hermione,” he whispered, running the tips of his fingers across the skin of her neck and shoulder, setting her nerve endings on fire at every inch he touched, “let me help you with this.”

He took the slippery soap-bar out of her trembling fingers and started to run it across her back in careful, measured circles. His hands travelled down across her slick, foam-covered skin with tender and yet so exciting movements.

“Hermione,” he whispered very close to her left ear and the mere sound of his voice, muffled to a low murmur as he gently kissed the tender flesh of her neck, aroused her more than she had ever expected.

On an impulse, her arms encircled him in a tight embrace and she gasped at the sudden feel of his bare skin against hers. In an endless downpour the water sprinkled down on them, running across their skin in warm, tickling ringlets.

Hermione was entirely caught up by her emotions. The exciting feel of Severus’ almost completely undressed body in her arms, the unfamiliar, vulnerable state of being exposed to his every gaze and touch excited her and made her feel slightly dizzy and light-hearted. Her still soapy hands slid down his back in one fluid, smooth caress and came to rest right above the waistband of his boxers. After a second of faltering she let them wander lower and started to hesitatingly caress his firm buttocks through the clinging wet cotton fabric. At that, Severus’ hips bucked forward in a rushed movement and with an agitated gasp he bit the crook of her shoulder, but smoothed her down by kissing the same spot the very next second, then softly bit it again. Not hard enough to actually hurt her, but intense enough to send shivers of pleasure down her back and awaken a warm tickling sensation in her loins. Not quite faltering, his knee was shoved between her legs, causing her to cling to him. The tiny hairs on his legs tickling the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. His touch set her on fire, it felt like her whole body was aflame and no amount of water from the running shower was enough to extinguish it. It felt so good – it felt heavenly, this was just what she wanted – “Sev- umm, Severus,” she muttered, her voice muffled as she fondly snuggled her face against his chest and neck, covering them with countless little kisses.  

But still – She was not sure if she should allow her thoughts to travel that far. To mentally make out with him was one thing, but to actually go all the way with him – even in her thoughts – was a big step. She was not sure if she was willing to take it.

Did she really want to imagine this? Was she really willing – even if only in her mind – to actually have sex with him?

To escape her thoughts, she retreated into kissing him, but this proved to be a _huge_ mistake – or maybe it proved to be just right…

It was nothing like she had imagined it to be – not calm and controlled, but not rushed and devouring either. In a careful, tender and yet so possessive manner he clasped her mouth with his. “Shhht –” he muttered against her slightly parting lips and she could feel that he was smiling. “This is what will happen anyway. What does it matter if we do it now or in a few weeks? It would be needless torture to wait. You know just as well as I that we both want it. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that. Say that you want me, Hermione. Say it.”

Hermione drew in a sharp breath at those thoughts. He was right, she noticed with thunderstruck realisation, he was completely right. Even in her dazed state of lust she realised that it was her own subconscious mind that spoke through his words. She did not care in the slightest what troubles and embarrassment lay ahead of them. It was not because of the promise she had given her older self not to interfere and allow things to happen the way they had –would – whatever – she truly wanted this.   

What a mess her life had become. Just a week ago her only fear had been a B grade in one of her NEWTs, whereas now – Here she was stark-naked and aching with desire, lusting after her Potions Master, her eyes closed, her quivering body arched backwards to press herself closer to him and he was not even there! There were clearly other problems in life than grades. What an earth-shattering realisation for Hermione Granger.

“Yes, oh yes, Severus. I want this,” she sighed, unleashing her imagination again – she almost urged her fantasies to go on, to not stop at whatever they would lead her to –

Once again she almost truly felt Severus’ arms encircling her, felt his warm hands gently rubbing and massaging her back and his rushed breath brushing across the skin of her neck. She could not get enough of this and nudged her face against his neck, started to kiss his throat and caught his earlobe between her teeth to gently suck at it. Once again his hips bucked forward at the sudden intense caress and she clearly sensed his arousal against her thigh. She loved the feeling of it. The knowledge to be able to do this to him, to drive him wild, just like he was leaving her breathless with want. Whimpering softly she allowed her hands to trail further down his spine to the waistband of his boxer-briefs that clung to his body like a second skin, and grind her fingers around his buttocks. The low, needy moan that filled his throat at this only urged her on. Fully sure of herself this time, she grabbed the material of his boxers and started to tug them downwards. At this the soap slipped out of his grip and clattered to the floor, but neither of them seemed to notice. 

A slight knock on the door made her flinch, though, and put all the pretty pleasant little imaginations to an end. Frantically she glanced around. The room was still clouded with water vapour and she had no clue were the soap had gone, before she stepped on it and almost slipped, but there was definitely no Severus with her.

Unfortunately also the last and most pleasant image of him had disappeared at the disturbance. Obviously no Snape, be he imaginary or real, took it well if someone did not pay attention to him, in class or – in the shower.

Hastily Hermione dragged one of the fluffy white towels from the rack and wrapped herself within.   

To her utter relief the door did not open and no Severus stepped through this time. _‘What did you expect?’_ she berated herself. _‘Just because you lost yourself in stupid little fantasies about him he won’t suddenly storm into the room and kiss you senseless.’_

When she did not answer right away, the knock repeated. “Hermione?” she heard Severus’ voice slightly muffled through the wood between them and managed to croak out an answer in return. “Y-yes?” she asked in a quivering voice and added with a trace of panic: “I’ll hurry, but I – I’m not quite dressed.”  

She almost sensed him taking a step back at this. “Oh no, don’t worry,” he assured her vehemently. “I won’t come in. I just wanted to know what you wanted to have for dinner. There’s a House Elf in the hearth, asking for our wishes for supper.”

“Oh, I – don’t know, just choose some meal to your liking.” She was so surprised that she did not even feel the slightest stirring of anger at the mention of the House Elf, but then she clearly had other problems to deal with at the moment.

How on earth was she supposed to ever face him again, after what she just fantasised about him? And what if he had heard her moaning his name and heard her telling him – she did not even dare to bring those thoughts to their conclusion, it would not be a good one, she suspected. She would probably die of embarrassment if he made as much as a single comment about her – well – admission.

It was so tempting to just hide herself in the bathroom for about a century, or two, or at least for some more time to fix her hair, she just dreaded that if she gave in to this now, she would not ever manage to overcome her embarrassment and fear to face him again. But she was not a Gryffindor for no reason, was she? Deciding to perform a drying and straightening charm on her hair outside, she started to dress herself and straightened her shoulders to face the source of her desire again.

OO

When Hermione returned to the guest room a couple of minutes later the whole atmosphere had changed. The room was no longer bathed in the late glow of sunlight, but still had a soft, cosy luminance. Surprised, she looked around to find out about the origin of the soft, slightly flickering light. She noticed that Severus had lit the candles in the sconces. It was still not fully dark outside, but the sunlight was already declining beneath the wood-covered hills at the other side of the lake.

Only then, she noticed the neatly lain table in the bay-window. Two large white plates on a long, off-white tablecloth, ivory serviettes, forks and knives of heavy sterling silver and two glasses for each of them, a smaller one and a larger, bulged wine goblet. A large ivory-coloured candle in the windowsill bathed the arrangement in a soft light. It almost looked like a table set for a romantic date and Hermione wondered who had advised the House Elves.

Severus, who had followed her gaze, sent an attentive glance her way. “The House Elf suggested grilled lamb filet with tarragon and rosemary juices, braised spinach and gratin. I hope that’s fine with you. I also ordered a bottle of  98er St Emilion Grand Cru with the meal, but as I didn’t know whether you wanted to have wine at all, I also asked the Elf to bring us some water. With that he gestured towards the wine bottle and a large jug of table water beside it.

Hermione smiled at him. “I’ll take both, thank you. And the choice of vintage – was that coincidence, or a touch of irony?” 

“What ever you like,” Severus responded with an amused little smile, but did not go any further into the matter. He just explained that he had cast a spell on he food to keep it warm and prevent the lamb from getting tough, while he took a shower. 

**OO**

When Severus started to take off his robes, the contents of his left pocket slipped to the floor. As he bent down to pick up whatever it was, he was caught by surprise. In the unsteady light of the flickering candles in the bathroom, the silvery silk material of Hermione’s brassiere shimmered in a fascinating way.

Severus drew in a sharp breath. He had forgotten all about the fact that he had stuffed the traitorous piece of cloth into his pocket at the sudden disturbance of the House Elf in the hearth. What on earth was he supposed to do with it now? He could hardly carry it around in his robes, could he? But he could not just leave it in the bathroom either. Both options held too much risk that she might discover it by accident and he did not think he could cope with the idea that she knew he had examined her underwear. No, definitely not!

The only solution seemed to be smuggling it back into the dresser without her notice. Yes, that would he do, he just had to wait till she was asleep later on.

Right now he was stuck with the damn thing. He looked at it for a few more seconds, before he put it aside with an exasperated sigh and continued to undress. Before he turned towards the shower, he hid the troublesome garment carefully between his robes. Just in case. Not that she would ever purposely stumble into the bathroom when she knew him to be in there, but he felt a great deal better when her undergarment was not visible on top of his clothes.

Cursing himself for his own stupidity, he stepped into the shower and opened the hot water tap. A hand-made bottle of herbal shampoo was placed on the stone shelf in the corner, but he could not spot any soap.

Just then, his toe nudged against a slippery object by the drain. To his great surprise he recognised it as a large white soap-bar, much like the one he had imagined her to be using earlier. He was just surprised that she had not picked it up, but maybe he had startled her with his knock.

The soap smelled pleasantly of wood-flowers, honey and resin and he easily recognised it as his work. It was a strange thought that she had used this bar before. But determined not to get caught in any untoward fantasies about her again, he forbade himself any further thoughts of the matter.

For a couple of minutes this worked quite well, but when he was relaxing more and more under the steady stream of running water, the unbidden thoughts and fantasies came back with full force. Pictures that would not leave his mind at peace as hard as he tried to get rid of them.

Images of Hermione laughing like he had seen in the pictures at the study the day before, her eyes sparkling with love and happiness. Hermione and Tina playing in the snow. An enceinte Hermione and himself in the Great Hall. Hermione in the grounds, surrounded by the bright coloured autumn leaves, her long curly hair dishevelled, her cheeks flushed by the chill of a sunny, but cold harvest day. Hermione working concentratedly at Potions class. Hermione and him in their wedding robes. Hermione cutting her finger. Her huge, beautiful eyes resting trustingly on him as he had fixed the little cut. Hermione outside in the guest room performing a drying spell on her hair, taming those gorgeous, chocolate-coloured curls, smoothing them down to a silky, soft shimmering cloak around her shoulders. Then suddenly, a surprise to himself, his own hands running through those beautiful strands. Hermione sprawled on the bed, wearing nothing but those beautiful silvery shimmering undergarments. His lips covering hers in a tender devouring kiss, her arms winding around his neck. Her soft, sweet lips brushing across the tender skin of his ear, whispering his name.  

_‘Se-verus…’_

“Hermione –” a soft sigh broke free from his chest at those thoughts. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to imagine her slender hands in the place where is own traced the soap-bar across his skin. His conscience still struggling against these fantasies, his mind constantly reminding himself of the fact that she was still his student and it was more than improper to feel those desires towards her. It did not help in the slightest, though. It did not help at all!

Realising the hopelessness of his struggle, he finally gave in to the all-consuming desire that held him in its clasp. The shame he felt was not at his actions, but rather because it was Hermione, his student, the object of his desire, in his mind as his hand moved slowly downwards.

**OO**

A couple of minutes later, Severus returned from the shower, looking quite refreshed. He still wore the same clothing as before, black trousers and frock coat, with a black shirt beneath, but had not put his robes back on again. Those he placed carefully across the arm of the couch, before he walked towards the bay window.

When he stepped past her, Hermione noticed that he smelled of the same soap she had used earlier, and once again the unbidden, wanton fantasies returned to her mind.

His hair looked soft and clean after the shower. The smooth pitch-black strands were shimmering like raven feathers in the glow of candlelight and Hermione noticed that they were still slightly wet at their ends. She fought the sudden urge to touch them and focused on his face instead. The shower seemed to have done him good, she noted. He was much more relaxed, but for some reason, he seemed unable to look her in the eye.

This was definitely odd. In a flash of panic she asked herself if she had forgotten anything in the bathroom, her panties perhaps, but could not remember to have done so. 

When she looked back at Severus again, she realised that he did not pull out her chair for her, but obviously waited for her to sit first and, still slightly confused, she took a seat.

Although she had not had any food since breakfast, where she had hardly been able to get anything down either, Hermione did not feel much hungry, because of the nervous jolts and twists with which her stomach seemed to turn around itself. Nonetheless she had to admit that the meal was delicious.

They ate in silence for a while, the soft clinking of their forks and knives on their plates the only sound around. Then Hermione finally managed to word the question she had been pushing around in her mind for so long. Carefully she cleared her throat. “Ewm – sir, er, Severus, I mean, Severus,” she corrected herself hastily at the darkening expression on his face. “There’s something I’d like to ask you?”

His head snapped up in alarm and his whole posture tensed at that. “Yes,” he responded carefully, “what is it?”

Nervously Hermione started to shove the gratin around on her plate. “Well, it’s like this,” she stammered, staring at the tablecloth. “You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I’ve been wondering,” she babbled and could easily tell his expression was darkening at those words, even if she did not look at him. This was ridiculous, she berated herself. She could not have started off worse.

Steeling herself against the desperate uncertainty she felt, she lifted her head to look at him.

He had stopped eating and the look on his face almost made her regret her decision. His brows were creased so deep into his eyes that she almost could not recognise the restless moving black orbs. The fine steep wrinkles between his eyes, which she had noticed the evening before, were deepened by the worried expression on his face, a vein at his right temple was throbbing and his lips were pressed into a thin line, with whitish spots at their edges. It was easily recognisable that he was not at all comfortable with the turn of conversation.

But she had brought it this far and was not willing to back away now. Drawing in a quivering breath, she smiled at him. “I had a little talk with myself at the study this morning and she told me that you attended Stonehenge University Of Magical Studies. And you see, I’ve been wondering if you could possibly tell me about it?”

There, she had said it. Proudly she lifted her eyes up to his face again and smiled at him. And was amazed at the change his features had undergone.

He was so relieved that it was almost cute. His eyes wide with surprise, his lips forming a wide, real smile. “Oh, that’s what you’re talking about!”

Reassured by his reaction, Hermione returned the warm smile. “Yes, I’d love to hear about it. If you don’t mind, of course,” she added, still slightly nervous.

It was the first private conversation they had, and she was not sure how far he was willing to share with her any matters of his past.

**OO**

Severus reached for the wine again, his eyes questioning her and as she nodded he refilled her glass to a good quarter before he leaned back in his seat. Twirling his own bulged glass at its long, slender stem, he studied her face.

Her question had been quite a surprise to him. He had anticipated with dread a much thornier line of inquiry and was more than pleased at the turn of conversation. 

“What is it you want me to tell you about,” he asked quite kindly as she looked at him with a warm glow in her cinnamon eyes. 

“Oh – everything you remember, even if you don’t assume it important,” she smiled. “I want to know everything. What it’s like there, how the faculties work along with each other; you can tell me about the food, the quarters, the library – ”

At this a snort of amusement interrupted her and a wide grin slipped over his features. “Oh yes, of course, I should have known,” he remarked dryly, and at the slightly hurt expression that crossed her face at these words he added: “Not that I am in the position to judge you. I spent ages in there as well.”

At this her face lit up again. “Honestly,” she asked excitedly “What is it like? Is it well organised? I heard they have very old and rare books in there. Hand-written uncials even.”

He could not help but smile at her eagerness. “Oh yes, it is very well organised and much larger than Hogwarts’ library. There are volumes about all kinds of topics concerning magic and even a huge number of books dealing with matters of the Muggle world and their idea of magic. They also have a restricted section about the more – dangerous and dark chapters of History of Magic and the Dark Arts. Those deal with forbidden, powerful potions recipes and spells, curses to be precise. The students have access to all of this information, but they have to sign in a form with their name and student ID and what book they consulted for what reason. They don’t need a pass to get into the section, but the books mustn’t be taken out of the library of course. But also the other parts of the archive are impressive. You’ll find autobiographies of famous witches and wizards like Circe, Morgan le Fay, Merlin, and – Miraculix. You know that Druid of the Gaul who brewed the potion which made them famous for their bravery and resistance against the Romans. I did some research on him and his mysterious Strength Assembling Potion, for my thesis, but – unfortunately the recipe was lost after his death. No one knows for sure what happened to it.” 

Hermione’s eyes went round at that. “You’re joking, aren’t you?” 

“No,” Severus defended himself with a slight laugh, “I know it’s a common Muggle tale, but you see, sometimes it’s unavoidable that Muggles get to notice the existence of magic and this is one of those cases. Not all of what’s told is true of course. The fact that Obelix got his great strength because he fell into the potion as a child isn’t proved for example. But for all we know, he was half giant, you know and therefore…”

“Oh come on,” Hermione complained with a laugh and playfully slapped his hand that rested on the tablecloth, “don’t tease me like that, will you?! Do you think I’m stupid!?”

Severus, who had caught her wrist as she had so derisively slapped his hand, raised his eyebrows in mock surprise at her.

“Well, you can’t say you didn’t believe it at first, can you?” he sniggered, his eyes sparkling with mirth at his successful joke. Turning a little more serious again he gently squeezed her hand. “Don’t be angry at me,” he pleaded, still smiling, “this wasn’t quite fair, but you’re just too charming when you ...” he trailed off, uncomfortably aware of what he had just said.

For a few seconds they both just stared into each other’s eyes and Hermione grew uncomfortably aware of the fact that her hand was still clasped in his. No, she mentally corrected herself, ‘uncomfortably’ was not the right word to describe what she felt at the soft, but yet so meaningful little contact. ‘Excitedly’ might be a better choice of words, she concluded. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribcage and she was well aware of the crimson flush that crept into her cheeks. Nonetheless she made no effort to draw her hand back, nor did he let go of it.

Once again she felt briefly reminded of the heated fantasies she had lost herself under the shower, but this was different. She could not deny that she felt an excited fluttering in the pit of her stomach and a pleasant tickling sensation in the place where Severus’ hand covered hers, but there was also a kind of longing deep inside her chest that made it difficult to breathe calmly, difficult to breathe at all as it seemed. This was not the kind of arousal she had felt at her fantasies earlier, this was an almost shy, tender kind of affection that tugged painfully at her heart with an intense, devouring urge to just get up from her seat and crawl into his lap, fling her arms around him and snuggle her face to the soft skin of his neck – and never let go.

She swallowed. Where did these thoughts come from? 

All the time he had studied her, his dark eyes glittering, resting in hers as if they wanted to survey what exactly she was thinking.

“Of course you’re not stupid, Hermione,” he muttered finally as he slowly, almost reluctantly removed his hand, his fingertips brushing across her skin in an apparently meaningless, unintentional movement that increased the longing in her heart to such intensity that she almost gasped with pain. ‘If this is love, he’d better feel the same,’ she mused.

She was aware of the fact that he had spoken, but she had been so deeply caught up within her thoughts that he had to repeat his words until they got through to her.

“You’re the most gifted witch I ever met,” he told her softly. “I’ve always admired your extensive knowledge, and skills at potions brewing. It – wasn’t right of me to never tell you that. On the contrary, I treated you rather unfairly most of the time. I’d like to apologise for that, Hermione.”     

Wide-eyed, she looked at him at this declaration at a loss for words. When she had recovered a little, she croaked out hoarsely, “Oh-um, no need to apologise S-Severus.”

His eyes were an endless pool of velvety blackness. “Yes there is, Hermione,” he muttered softly, “and I know that well.” 

**OO**

Severus, who noticed her disarray, watched her thoughtfully for a couple of seconds. She had never looked more charming to him. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her beautiful hair was shimmering in the candlelight. It looked quite voluminous after the shower. The shower – not the best topic to reflect on, he told himself with another stab of bad, very bad conscience. He would have to sort out his thoughts about that tricky matter later on. 

Right now he felt far too good to spoil his mood with any kind of regrets. He felt pleasantly relaxed, surprisingly comfortable and almost – happy. Too good to even worry about his realisation. He enjoyed her company, he admitted to himself. He enjoyed it immensely. He liked telling her about his student days and enjoyed the way she hung at his every word. She was so utterly sweet – he only wished he could reach out to touch her hand again and maybe – No, he stopped his train of thought. Not – that – again, not while she was around at least.

It was the wine, he told himself, it had to be the wine. He doubted that he would have confessed to her what he had just said otherwise, but now that he had, he was glad to have done so. She was so happy about it. Her eyes were sparkling with pride at the compliment and her cheeks were even more alluringly flushed. 

It was most obvious that the wine had some effect on both of them. It had left him in a relaxed, talkative mood and for all it looked like she was quite comfortable around him as well.

He decided to bring the conversation back on more safe ground. “I had no idea that you are planning to study at Stonehenge, but you will like it, Hermione, I can assure you,” he smiled. “Have you ever been there before?”

She nodded, “Yes, that’s one more thing I’m concerned about. I’ve been there on a field trip with my final year primary school once, but –” she wavered, “I didn’t notice anything unusual around the place. I know there’ll probably be wards to hide the institute from the eyes of Muggles, but – but even if I didn’t know that I was a witch back then, don’t you think I should have a least _noticed_ something around the place?”

“No, don’t worry, you couldn’t,” Severus assured her with a smile. “Its buildings are invisible to everyone who isn’t a member, even magical folk.”

At her surprised frown he continued: “Every fall a grand welcoming ceremony for the first semester is celebrated. Torches are lit in a wide circle around the stone ring and the new students are led in by a group of elder faculty members through each of the huge stone gates. In the centre of the building a large fire is lit and the new members are supposed to assemble themselves around it. Each of them is given an amulet. In a welcome ceremony, held by the head of the institute, a goblet with a potion to activate the amulets’ powers passes from student to student. The amulets make their possessors invisible to everyone but the owner of another and allow them to see the university. Everyone else walks right through the walls without even noticing them.”

“But – how’s that possible?” Hermione gasped, “you’re not teasing me again, are you?” she asked suspiciously.

Severus shook his head at that, “No,” he declared softly, “I’m not, don’t worry, Hermione. It’s because the walls aren’t really there. They once were, but that was ages ago, before the big fire that destroyed most of the buildings. The circle of large stone blocks that is visible to everyone, even to the Muggles, is all that remains of the once extensive buildings that surrounded the campus. The old  faculty halls are gone, but the ghost of their memory is re-materialised for those who wear the amulets. They are working similar to the wards that were cast around the place where the Quidditch World Cup was held. You know,” he smiled, “whenever a Muggle comes close to one of the students, he’ll remember something that makes him turn away to look at his watch, or talk to his companion, check on the laces of his shoes, or stop to get his camera out. Anything. The students don’t need to worry about colliding with anyone, nor is there the need to keep silent. The amulets guarantee that no one but the people who wear them can see, touch or hear them.”

Fascinated, Hermione listened to his explanations. She had not found anything about this in the books she had read about the institute. They obviously wanted to surprise new members, she presumed.    

Severus continued to tell her about Stonehenge for quite some time and Hermione threw in a question every now an then. He told her that the single faculties and auditoria were entered by walking right through the big stones, similar to they way one got onto Platform 9 and 3/4. It was absorbing.  

The uncomfortable tension that had hung between them earlier seemed to have mysteriously died away, and when about two hours later the candle on the windowsill started to flicker, they were surprised at where the time had gone.

**OO**

“This has been a really nice evening,” Severus smiled, “I’m sure you’ll like it at Stonehenge just as well as I did.”

“Yes,” Hermione sighed, “Now I’m even more eager to start there and see all these things myself.”

“Well,” Severus smiled kindly, “I have no doubt that you’ll do fine on your NEWTs and get a satisfying result at the entrance examination as well. It’s only a few months to go till school will be over and in October you’ll begin your studies there.” 

Hermione did not respond this right away. “M-mm, maybe, yes,” she muttered tentatively. “But – there might – well be a delay.”

Severus’ head snapped up in surprise at her words. “But why wouldn’t you – ” he then trailed off in mid sentence, suddenly realising what she was speaking off. “O-oh –”

Suddenly all the awkwardness was back. Severus cleared his throat. “Well, it would presumably be best, if we headed for bed now.”

Once again he mentally slapped his forehead for his poor choice of words and hastily mumbled: “I mean to go to sleep, of course, I wasn’t implying that we – you know – Anyway –”

This time it was Hermione’s turn to gracefully ignore his babbling.

In an attempt to escape the uncomfortable situation, Severus rose from his seat and strode over towards the bed, but he had barely picked up the bedspread and a pillow to take them towards the couch with him, when he uncovered the next surprise. His gaze fell onto a strange kind of clothing that had been paced beneath the covers. He recognized one of the short-legged trousers and matching cotton shirts he had seen inside her drawer earlier. Too curious to just ignore them, he picked up the unfamiliar garments and passed them to her. “Here,” he smiled, “your night clothes.”

Much too his dismay, Hermione broke into a fit of giggles at this. With a frown motivated more by confusion than annoyance, Severus looked at her, an uncertain expression in his eyes. Though she tried her best to remain calm, Hermione’s lips were still switching as she picked up the silk, black, spaghetti strap negligee for him to look at.

“Here,” she declared as earnestly as she could manage, “these must be yours then, I suppose.”

**A/N:** Thank you for any kind of encouragement! I hope you enjoyed the new instalment, too.

**PS:** This chapter’s title refers to a song by Shakira. I guess everyone knows to which Gaul Severus refers to, when teasing Hermione about the Strength Assembling Potion. Asterix and Obelix, is a cartoon series, which I unfortunately don’t own either.

Smiles, Serpentina 


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